


So Many Secrets

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Series: The Kingdom of Camelot [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Awesome Gwen (Merlin), Bromance, Bruises, De-Aged Merlin, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Good Morgana (Merlin), Gwaine and Aithusa, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Magic, Merlin is So Done (Merlin), Merlin is a Little Shit, Minor Character Death, Protective Arthur, Protective Gwaine (Merlin), Protective Kilgharrah (Merlin), Protective Knights (Merlin), Secrets, Sorcerers, Spells & Enchantments, Young! Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:13:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 21,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22846159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: Merlin is de-aged while out on a Mission, and so the Knights and Gwen take care of Merlin. But, the longer Merlin stays like this, the more secrets they learn about the Warlock.
Relationships: Gwen & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin & Gwaine
Series: The Kingdom of Camelot [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1669282
Comments: 148
Kudos: 992





	1. The Spell

Merlin was really starting to hate being captured. It happened a lot more often than he would like, and this time, things actually seemed to have a chance of being life-threatening. Both Lancelot and Gwen had turned to him as they were dragged into this cell, hoping he could use Magic to get them out. It should have been warming, to know that his friends were okay with the gift he had been hiding since birth, but unfortunately, he could not use his Magic. The markings on the wall explained why, carvings that indicated the use of Blood Magic.

Unpredictable, unreliable, and down-right dangerous. Merlin had been pondering over this, while the creepy old man explained that, to leave, one of them had to drink the goblet of liquid on the table. The cell wasn’t anything special, three walls and a barred entrance, the man seated on the other side watching the other two bicker. Arthur would be mad, really mad that Merlin had let them be captured, so of course he was going to drink the liquid.

Gwen couldn’t, that much was clear. If anything happened to her, Arthur and Morgana would have his head. Okay, maybe not his head, but they would never forgive him. Then there was Lancelot, the man that Morgana was possibly in love with, but she hadn't yet told him that. In fact, Merlin only knew because they shared a bond of Magic, one he could use to communicate with her without speaking.

They were arguing about how the other shouldn’t drink the liquid, and Merlin weighed up what it could be. If it was Blood Magic, then it could be a range of things. He had been told that he was immortal, that he couldn’t die due to his Destiny to protect Arthur. Now, he felt like he owed the others that same protection, the men and women who called themselves his friends. So, while wondering if he was immortal to Blood Magic, he reached for the goblet before either of the others could stop him.

He drained it in one long gulp, slammed it down onto the table and looked across at the other two. Lancelot’s mouth was open, Gwen looked terrified, but before he could explain to them that he felt fine, a bright light filled the room and everything went blank.

**

When Gwen opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed was that the man was no longer sitting outside the barred door. In fact, the door was open, suggesting they were no longer trapped. Then, she saw the pile of clothes that were left where Merlin had sat. Her heart froze, fear driving her to crawl closer, only stopping when Lancelot woke, gripping her arm.

‘Let me.’ He was trying to protect her, which was sweet, but he didn’t really need to. Lancelot reached, gripped the edge of the jacket, and tugged.

It was a boy. A tiny, wide-eyed boy, sitting with a small tunic and trousers covering him, black curls across his head. He could be no older than four or five. As soon as they made eye-contact, the boy scrambled back, a terrified expression. Guinevere couldn’t speak, her words caught in her throat as she stared at the boy, knowing deep-down who it was.

‘Merlin?’ Lancelot reached out, and the sound that the boy made was one that struck terror through her. He sounded pained, fearful, moving backwards until he was pressed to the wall. Gwen looked between them, then decided that she should try. Her hand stretched out, Merlin watching the movement carefully, Gwen letting him see that she had nothing in her palm.

‘Merlin? Do you remember me? I’m Gwen, your friend.’ Small, skinny fingers reached out and brushed over hers, and she was shocked by how cold he felt. Seeing that she meant no harm, he let his palm rest against hers, and she shuffled closer.

‘You must be cold, here.’ She unhooked her cape, placed it around his shoulders and wondered how the rest of the Knights and Arthur were going to react when they saw that Merlin had been changed into a child.

‘We should bring the cup with us. In case Gaius can identify it.’ Lancelot’s speech had Merlin cowering again, Gwen offering her arms to the boy, who didn’t move to begin with.

‘Merlin, we need to get out of here. I promise, I’ll keep you safe.’ Eventually, while Lancelot wrapped the cup in Merlin’s jacket, she managed to lift Merlin into her arms, tucking him and tying the cape so he some of his weight was held by hers.

It didn’t take long for them to identify that whenever Lancelot spoke, Merlin hid. He trusted Gwen more, that was certain, and she was glad that Lancelot had enough sense not to push the issue. Escaping the Cell was easier than she had first predicted, and eventually, they found themselves in the forest. Never that useful, because she had no idea which way they came from, but luckily, she was with a Knight of Camelot.

Lancelot didn’t take long to identify the path they had come on, squashed plants and bracken that he was certain was the trail they had been dragged through. Gwen agreed, hiking her dress up slightly and keeping a hold of Merlin, who was still gripping on to her like his life depended on it.

**

Lancelot felt guilty. As a Knight, it was his duty to protect Camelot and its citizens, and that included Merlin. Now, the man was a tiny child, tucked up against Gwen with his hands gripping the cloak that she had wrapped around him, too afraid to look at Lancelot. He figured that Merlin didn’t remember them, then, but why he trusted Gwen and not him, he didn’t know. They had been walking for a while now, Gwen uncomplaining despite having to carry Merlin as extra weight, while Lancelot was beginning to miss his sword.

‘LANCELOT!’ He spun, unable to hide the grin as Leon came jogging across, sheathing his sword when he saw the two of them unharmed. He was pulled in for a brief hug, a manly slap on the back, before attention turned to Gwen.

‘Where’s Merlin?’ The other Knights were coming, and Lancelot could see Arthur, the worry on his face melding into one of content, at least until he saw there were only two of them present. Just like Lancelot, he knew that all the Knights felt a sense of loyalty to Merlin, especially when they found out how he had been using Magic to protect Arthur since their first meeting.

Gwen carefully unwrapped the bundle she was carrying, and Lancelot heard the Knights shock as they spotted the bright blue eyes, the dark curls and the untrusting expression. Nobody laughed, like he thought they might, a silence descending on the group. Merlin looked just as wary of the other Knights as he had Lancelot, his fingers white with the strain of gripping onto Gwen.

‘Merlin?’ Arthur took a step forwards, only for Merlin to grip the cloak and pull it back over his head, a gesture that would have been adorable had it not been worrying.

‘What happened?’ Gwaine, of course, was the one who looked most worried. It was hardly surprising, the Knights knew how much Gwaine cared for Merlin, that, if tested, his loyalty would fall to the sorcerer over the King, without a doubt. But Arthur didn’t mind, in fact, he approved of Gwaine’s friendship with Merlin. If the King knew, however, that Gwaine’s affection might have been slightly over the border of friendship, no doubt Arthur would be mad. He was just as protective over Merlin, the two usually working together to keep him safe.

‘We should get back to Camelot. And call for Morgana.’ Lancelot suggested, while Gwen rearranged the bundle of Merlin that she was holding, chuckling when he tucked his head under her chin. Arthur took one last look, then nodded his head, turning back to the horses.


	2. No luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little Merlin doesn't trust very easily, and Gwen is there to help him

Gaius, as it happened, had no more luck convincing Merlin not to be afraid than any of the other Knights. They were stood in Arthur’s chambers, Merlin as tucked into the corner as he could be, while Gaius tried to coax him out from the corner with promises of strawberries if he let Gaius look him over. The Knights were all present, apart from Elyan, who had ridden out to summon Morgana from her hideaway out in the Mountains.

‘Let me try.’ Gwen gently rested a hand on Gaius’s arm, who stepped back with a huff and went back to his books. So far, the physician had offered no insight into why Merlin had changed, nor could he identify the solution in the cup. Unfortunately for them, they all knew that Merlin would be the best one to tell them what had happened, and the reverse for such a thing, but he was not talking.

‘He looks around five, why does he not speak?’ Arthur remarked, before Gwaine hit him in the arm. After all, they were trying to get Merlin to speak, and it was clear that wasn’t going to happen when they were talking. Gwen moved so she was slightly closer, before sitting down on the cold floor and looking across to Merlin.

She didn’t know that much about his life in Ealdor. Just that his best friend had been Will, that he had lived with his mother, Hunith, and that she had sent him away when Will found out about his Magic. She imagined it had been lonely, having nobody to trust with such a secret, having to constantly hide from those closest. Maybe, if she could prove that they knew about his Magic, the boy would presume he trusted them.

‘Merlin, do you remember us? I’m Guinevere, your friend, and this here,’ She gestured back to Arthur, not bothering with his official title, ‘Is Arthur, the idiot you decided to protect.’ Surprisingly, Merlin actually looked intrigued, untucking his head from his knees and staring up at her.

‘That’s Gaius, and these are the Knights. We’re like a big family.’ She hoped they wouldn’t mind the term family, just hoping that Merlin could understand it. The blue eyes blinked, but he still made no attempt to come closer.

‘We know your Mother, as well. Hunith, she’s our friend.’ Slowly, like he was still terrified of them, Merlin cautiously unravelled, looking across to her.

‘But we need to know what happened, Merlin, so we can keep you safe.’ The silence stretched out, and Guinevere was ready to retreat back, when a tiny voice piped up.

‘Safe?’ She wanted to rush forwards and wrap him up, the wobbling voice combined with the unsure eyes making Merlin look like he needed the comfort. But she didn’t, afraid of reversing whatever they had done, and so she gave a nod.

‘Yes, I promise.’ Merlin stared, before sliding across the floor to be slightly closer to her. This was a good start, she thought, looking up to where the others were watching.

‘Can you tell me what you remember?’ Gwen risked moving closer to him, surprised when Merlin closed the rest of the distance between them and clambered up onto her lap, settling down against her. He still didn’t look to the others, but that was okay, at least they had progress for now.

‘Was sleep, n’ it was raining.’ The weather in Camelot had been sunny for days, so Gwen was starting to suspect that he genuinely believed he was this age, remembering what had happened the night before.

‘With your Mother?’ Merlin shook his head furiously, tears forming in his eyes.

‘No, s’ away, m’alone.’ She wasn’t sure what to say, following that announcement, wondering why Hunith would have left a tiny boy on his own in the house.

‘Merlin, sweetheart, can you tell me how you got these?’ She gestured to his arm, to the tiny bruises she had seen when she’d first picked him up. What she really wanted to know, was whether they had been present before he had been changed, or if they were new.

‘No.’ She blinked, staring down at the stubborn face glaring back up at her, before trying a different tactic.

‘Did you get them today?’ Merlin paused, before slowly shaking his head, still staring at her like she might be a risk. Gwen hesitated, reached out to brush along them. None of them seemed that bad, although they were angry colours, and she looked to Gaius. The physician didn’t seem too worried about them either.

‘Do they hurt?’ Merlin’s attention was now on the Knights in the room, watching them cautiously, and Gwen realised that he must be worried about them.

‘You can trust them, Merlin, they’re here to keep you safe.’ She’d grown up in Camelot, knew that the Knights could have a bad reputation, and that the outer regions were more likely to fear them than be pleased to see them. It was reflected in Merlin’s gaze, the deep fear of the red capes and the swords that still hung from their belts.

‘Actually, they’re rather harmless. Lancelot, here, has an obsession with wild-flowers.’ The Knight went to protest, but she was already on to the next,

‘And Leon, well, he secretly collects soft pieces of fabric.’ All the Knights turned to Leon, who was blushing a dark red along his cheeks.

‘Percival may seem scary, but he’s a soft teddy bear really, and he loves hugs.’ Percival smiled to Merlin, who was watching each Knight that Gwen described, like he was placing the fact with the face.

‘Arthur’s got an attitude, but you’ve got one to match his, so you two get along perfectly.’ She waited, hoped a flash of recognition would show, but there was nothing. If Merlin didn’t recognise Arthur, his longest standing friend, then what hope did she have for the rest of them?

‘And finally, Gwaine, who’s always got a soft spot for you.’ Gwaine didn’t deny it, nor did the other Knights, waiting to see how Merlin would react. He looked over each of them, pausing for just a little bit longer on Arthur and Gwaine, but then looked back to Guinevere.

‘Hurts.’ He admitted, and she wondered if Gaius could give him something for that.

‘These ones?’ Just double checking, her fingers crossing over the marked skin gently. Merlin shook his head, shimmied a little so he was off of her lap, standing on his tiny legs and reached for the hem of his tunic. He lifted it just a little, and rather than revealing pale skin, Gwen was horrified to find a deep purple shade.

She snatched forwards, not missing how Merlin flinched, lifting the shirt higher. Bruises, ugly and dark, spreading across his stomach. Gaius went to move towards them, but Merlin shrunk away.

‘Feel along the ribs for any breaks.’ The physician advised, Gwen doing just that, gently moving her fingers over his lower ribs. Merlin didn’t move, stayed perfectly still, even though she was sure it had to hurt.

‘Nothing.’ She didn’t need to look up to know that the Knights were angry, could tell that just because she was furious, whoever had done this to him, she wished them all the agony in the world.

‘Along his stomach, any swelling or tenderness?’ Apologising quickly to the boy, who didn’t so much as blink, she pressed down lightly. It had to ache, but Merlin just sucked in air and stayed very still. Fortunately, she found nothing, shaking her head as she lowered his top and pulled him back onto her lap. He went willingly, settled down and reached for the cloak she had pinned around her shoulders, tucking it over him.

‘I can get him something, to help him sleep.’ It was then that the group realised that they would need somewhere for Merlin to stay, and all eyes fell to Arthur.

‘You’ve got to be kidding.’

‘Your room is the biggest. We can easily move a cot in here, for him to stay.’ Arthur hesitated, before agreeing to the new living arrangement, while Gwen looked down to Merlin.

‘You’ll stay with Arthur, if that’s okay?’ He looked back up at her, obviously slightly scared, but she took one of his tiny hands in hers and smiled.

‘He’ll keep you safe. And if you need me, you only have to call.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, more cute Merlin! Anything you guys want to see happen?


	3. Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Arthur have an awkward moment, Gwen learns some more about Merlin

Arthur pretty quickly realised that he missed Gwen. Merlin wouldn’t talk to him, not at all, stayed quiet and sat in the corner, avoiding eye-contact at all costs. Never before had Arthur realised how much he missed Merlin’s constant chatter, the insults and the comments that Arthur always responded to with threats of the stocks. Now, the tiny Merlin sat in the corner, knees tucked to his chest, refusing to do or say anything.

The bruising made him angry. That someone would do something, to a child no less, to Merlin! He wanted to find them, hunt them down and teach them a lesson for ever laying a hand on the servant, even though it had been years ago. Merlin looked terrified, and it didn’t take a genius to work out that whoever had hurt Merlin, it had to be a male. Either that, or Merlin trusted Gwen because the female he looked up to was Hunith.

Arthur had debated going to Ealdor to fetch her, but then decided that it would put too much strain on both her, and Merlin. Plus, if what tiny-Merlin had said was true, Hunith hadn't been there the night Merlin believed was yesterday. He doubted that she would know what happened to him, and Merlin probably would appreciate him telling her.

So, they stayed in silence, until Guinevere walked in with dinner. Two trays of food, one that she left covered, the other she brought across to him while he was flicking through papers. He gave her a nod, a smile that told her he really was thankful that she had taken up Merlin’s duties for now, not that she needed to. George would have been more than happy to stand in, but he didn’t want the servant to know that Merlin was like this. Plus, Merlin and George had a rivalry that everyone in the Castle could see.

‘Hungry, Merlin?’ Arthur couldn’t help but be slightly jealous of Gwen, the way Merlin toddled towards her and looked up at the plate of food with wide eyes.

‘Is that f’all of us?’ Another punch in the gut, this time, because Arthur had seen first hand what the people of villages like Ealdor ate. The fact that this plate was entirely for Arthur, not for the group like Merlin thought, was painful. Gwen covered it up with a laugh, sliding the second tray in his direction and uncovering it. For Arthur, it would have been a small amount. For Merlin, it looked like a feast. The boy had gone pale, eyes the size of the plate his food was being served on.

Gwen settled him on her knee, slowly helping him eat. Arthur tried not to intrude on the moment, with Merlin’s happy smiles and Gwen’s chatter about the Castle, soothing all the nerves that Merlin had when it was just the two of them. Once Merlin settled back, too full to eat any more, Arthur noted that Gwen was staring at the rest of the food.

‘Eat up, Gwen.’ He gestured to the food, saw her thankful glance and Merlin looked between them.

**

Gwen hurried around the Castle, collecting the clothes that she had managed to gather from some of the Mothers in the city. They had been slightly curious, stating that they hadn't seen Merlin come back from the mission, and Gwen realised how much this Kingdom had come to see Merlin as a constant. With a bundle of clothes in her arm, she returned to Arthur’s chambers, knocking before entering.

Merlin was still on the floor, staring up at Arthur fearfully, while the King was trying desperately to convince Merlin that he should get into the cot that had been moved in for him. It would have been funny, had she not seen the worry on Arthur’s face, and the terror on Merlin’s.

‘Merlin, I’ve found you some clothes.’ They both looked thankful for her arrival, Merlin relaxing slightly and watching as she moved across to Arthur’s storage, placing them on top. Then, she turned to him, offered her arms out.

‘Come on, time for bed.’ He hesitated, but eventually conceded to her, letting her scoop him up and settle him on the bed. He looked scared, biting his lip hesitantly and staring up, a frown on his face.

‘Y’ll be here when m’up?’ Gwen felt her heart shatter, staring at the tiny boy who looked so worried she would leave. She bent down, pressed a kiss to the black curls, felt him shudder under the touch.

‘Sleep, love, I’ll be here when you wake up.’ Merlin shuffled down, let her pull the blanket up around him. He then turned, tucked up into the smallest possible ball in the corner of the cot, and Gwen turned to Arthur. He was watching the two of them, a look on his face that Gwen would describe as anger. She felt it to, knew that Arthur was beginning to see more of Merlin than the sorcerer would ever allow normally.

**

Arthur lay awake, staring at the ceiling. He was supposed to be asleep, was pretending to, but couldn’t. Not when he could hear Merlin’s soft cries, the whimpers and the tossing and turning. He didn’t know what to do, whether he should go and comfort the boy, or leave him alone. What he wanted to do, more than anything, was find out who had hurt him so much, and whether he could hurt them back.

Another whimper, Merlin shifting in the cot, and Arthur turned to face him. In the low light, he couldn’t really see the expression, but he could imagine the tears in those wide eyes, the way Arthur would be caught by them.

‘Merlin?’ Silence. Nothing, not even a breath, and the King waited.

‘Sorry.’ A tiny voice, breaking the space between them, and Arthur regretted ever speaking. He wanted to assure Merlin that it wasn’t an issue, that between them, he never had to apologise. But he didn’t, stuck in the knowledge that he had never bothered trying to learn that much about Merlin, that he’d never supported him in the same way that Merlin supported him.

**

Merlin trotted behind Gwen, happy to follow her on her rounds. She smiled at everyone who passed, while Merlin hid behind her dress, or occasionally in the basket whenever she put it down. The Knights were training, Arthur was awaiting Morgana’s arrival, and Gaius was busy researching to see if they could reverse Merlin’s age.

‘What’s a bastard?’ She almost dropped the basket, turned to look at Merlin, who was staring at his hands. Figuring this was an important conversation, she placed down the basket and took her hands in his, squeezed.

‘Who told you that word, Merlin?’ He looked nervous, eyes flicking to anywhere but her, shifting from foot to foot.

‘People at home. C…Cenred’s men.’ King Cenred, the King dead under Morgause’s orders. The King that ruled the village of Ealdor, and presumably why Merlin feared the Knights. She felt tears spill down her cheeks, and Merlin reached for them, tried to wipe them away.

‘M’sorry, didn’t mean to make you sad.’ Oh, Merlin, why could he never see how much others cared. She pulled him forwards, wrapped her arms around him and buried her nose into the curls, tried not to let any more tears fall.

‘Never apologise to me, Merlin. Never.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who had commented and left Kudos! It's always great to hear from you guys! :)


	4. New arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome home, Morgana!

The bath water was slightly cool, yet Gwen couldn’t do anything about that, not without telling Merlin she knew about his Magic. He was staring at the water, evidently surprised by the big metal tub that he was allowed to bathe in. She reached for his shirt, carefully lifted it, bit down on a choked gasp as she saw the extent of the bruising across his torso. He shimmied out of the trousers, which she added to the shirt, before he turned his back to her.

It was worse, marks running parallel across his back, either from a belt or whip. She lifted him gently, not missing how he winced when he touched the water. She busied herself with collecting the dirty clothes, adding them to Arthur’s ready to clean, picking him out some more clothes.

‘Lady Gwen?’ She went to correct him, before noting how tense his face was, the pain written across his features. No doubt the marks along his back, which must be aching, and Gwen felt her heartrate pick up.

‘Yes, Merlin?’ He was shaking slightly, evidently afraid, but she could not understand what of. He seemed settled around her, comfortable in a way that he wasn’t with the others.

‘M’back hurts.’ She refused to feel pity for him, knew how much Merlin would hate it, but it was hard to do so when he was looking so lost.

‘I can call for Gaius, if that’s alright?’ He nodded once, tensing up and crowding in on himself, but it was a start.

**

Unfortunately, when she sent a servant for Gaius, the Knights found out. Worried that Merlin was hurt, they had all come to Arthur’s chambers, the King included, while Gwen tried to coax Merlin into taking his shirt off. She understood that whoever had done this to him, had either been someone of the village or a Knight of Cenred’s. The way he was shaking, the fear that she could see, was suggesting the latter.

‘Merlin, things are different in Camelot. These Knights are nothing like Cenred’s.’ She hoped the Knights and Arthur would be quiet, wouldn’t ask how she knew so much already, and luckily, they didn’t. Merlin stripped the shirt carefully, folding it to stretch out time, before slowly turning. Gwen reached for him, to comfort, and he gripped onto her like it would save him.

‘This might sting a little, but it will take away the pain.’ Gaius looked just as unnerved as Guinevere felt, fingers gentle as he moved over the marks. Merlin yet again made no sound to show his discomfort, although his grip tightened whenever the pain got too much.

Later, when Gwen was seated in the cot with Merlin on her lap, the young boy leant to whisper something quietly to her.

‘I ‘member things that aren’t real.’ She froze, unsure of what to say. Merlin might be remembering things, things about his life that couldn’t be held by whatever spell had de-aged him like this. She wanted to pry, to learn what he remembered, but instead, took a risk.

‘It’s Magic, Merlin. Like yours, but used for bad things.’ The way he began to shake told her that she had overstepped a boundary, his chest beginning to heave as he struggled, and she held him close as he tried to fight.

‘It’s okay, Merlin, it’s okay! We know, you’re safe, nobody is going to hurt you. It’s okay.’ He looked up, still unsure, but the hope in his eyes was enough to have her smiling. She reached out, brushed her fingers along his cheek and to his jaw, holding him gently.

‘You’re Magic makes you special, Merlin. So special.’ Across the room, the fire that Gwen really needed to tend to burst into flames, the previously dull embers roaring to life. The chill that had crept into the room was gone, and Gwen had just enough time to see the golden-swirl of Merlin’s eyes, his expression guarded, like he was waiting to see her reaction.

The older Merlin, the one that they all knew, wouldn’t have ever done such a thing. Just because they knew about his Magic, didn’t mean he ever showcased it. No amount of the Knights’ begging, or Arthur’s reassurance, would convince Merlin he could openly perform Magic in front of them. So this moment, when she watched the fire flick across the logs, she was consumed by the need to see more, to witness such a marvellous thing.

Seeing the smile on her face, Merlin smiled back, tucked his head against her chest and wrapped himself up in her cloak, settling down to rest. No doubt Morgana would be back soon, and she would be able to help them with the issue of his age.

‘Rest, Merlin, we’ll keep you safe.’

**

The hooves clattering in drew their attention, Merlin cautiously following. He wasn’t sure why he trusted the woman, but she was kind and had a nice smile, enough for him to believe she meant him no harm. The sunlight was warm, and he tilted his head to it, before hiding in Gwen’s shadow. The Knights looked down at him, most offering small smiles, and Merlin clutched at Gwen’s dress. One of the Knights, however, drew his attention.

He threw a wink, and Merlin found himself smiling shyly up at the Knight, the one they called Gwaine. For some reason, Merlin felt he could trust him, that they were friends. It made no sense, he had never met any of these people before, despite how much they knew about him. He wished his Mother would return, but she might bring Cenred’s men with her, and that was not something he wanted.

The woman on the horse dismounted smoothly, and Merlin didn’t miss the way the Knights bowed their heads. She must be the woman, Morgana, that they had been talking about when they thought Merlin wasn’t listening. He always was, he’d learnt a long time ago that he had to be smarter than most children his age. The Lady was hugging Arthur, then looking across to Gwen.

‘Merlin?’ He peeped out, studying her. She was pretty, like Gwen was, dark hair and bright green eyes, but that wasn’t what caught him. Around her, buzzing like the sky did when lightning was coming, a glow that he would recognise anywhere. Within him, his own ember sparked up, assuring him that they were friends. Her Magic was recognisable, he had seen her before, recognised pieces of his own energy.

While he was thinking, Morgana looked up to Gwen, a small smile on her face.

‘You’re stained with Magic, Guinevere.’ The Knights shot Gwen looks, while Merlin realised that the Lady was talking about his Magic that he was using to protect Gwen. He didn’t quite know why, but seeing as she had been protecting him, he had decided to do the same. His Mother had told him that nobody could know about his Magic, that he was to keep it hidden, yet Morgana was crouching down at the base of the steps, hand outstretched, sparks forming and flicking into the air.

Merlin left the safety of Gwen’s shadow, stumbled down the rather large steps, halted and watched her Magic for a moment. It was different to his, and although she was powerful, he did not fear her. Merlin reached out, summoned his own Magic, and watched as golden flames licked across his palm. It jumped, landing perfectly with Morgana’s Magic, like they had practiced this a hundred times.

She laughed, head tipped back and a bright smile that he mimicked, watched as she shaped and crafted the Magic into the shape of a butterfly. It wasn’t real, she didn’t seem to have that ability, so he gifted across some of his own. The butterfly became solid, a light blue, and took off to the skies.

‘Even as a child, Merlin, you’re still stronger than I could ever hope to be.’ He reached out, took her hand carefully, and she pulled him in for a hug. Merlin allowed it, his Magic bubbling happily and telling him that he was safe, that she could protect him.


	5. Something's wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin may be young, but his Magic isn't

‘Let me.’ Morgana placed a hand over the bruising, which glowed slightly as she began to heal the damage. Merlin stayed still, watched her Magic move over his skin. It was well-known that a sorcerer could not really heal themselves, and so she had decided that healing him was priority. Unfortunately, she would also have to explain how she couldn’t do anything to reverse what happened, not when this was performed by Blood Magic. She needed to know more, perhaps the Dragon would be of assistance, he was usually helpful when it came to protecting Merlin.

He shuffled slightly, the pain from the bruising obviously still affecting him, despite how he was trying to be brave. She had so many questions, but opted for just one, looking across to Arthur.

‘What happened?’

‘It was my fault, Lady Morgana. A sorcerer trapped Merlin, Gwen and I, told us we had to drink from this.’ A goblet, sitting on Arthur’s table, not one that she had seen before. She could understand why Merlin had not been able to use Magic to escape such a situation, Blood Magic was deadly and unpredictable. She wouldn’t dare cross it, not even to save Merlin, not unless she thought she had to. Picking up the goblet, she carefully breathed in the scent, trying to identify what it could have been.

‘Do you have any idea of what it is?’ Arthur asked, and Merlin flinched away when he spoke. Morgana noted it, stored it away while she examined the cup.

‘Blood Magic, dangerous to meddle in.’ As a High Priestess, she relied on a balance of Magic, she could call upon gifts and, in return, she appeased those higher than her. But Merlin was naturally gifted with abilities to draw on such power, he did not need to call. Blood Magic was much the same, although it was dark, and could corrupt quickly.

‘Can you reverse it?’ She shook her head almost instantly, turned to where Merlin was sitting on the edge of the table, looking at her. Offering out the goblet, she watched as his eyes glowed golden, like he was attempting to identify what she couldn’t.

 _‘It’s connected to the lunar cycle, and should be broken on it.’_ Morgana listened to the voice that echoed in her mind, the familiar presence of Emrys, realised that despite Merlin’s young-age, his Magic was still advanced. Blood Magic was strong, but it couldn’t unravel the Warlock, which made Morgana relax. It meant Merlin’s life wasn’t at risk.

‘Merlin says that it’s connected to the lunar cycle, that it should be broken on the next full-moon.’ She watched the disbelief echo on their faces, knew that she should explain their connection, before Merlin caught her off-guard with a bright smile, diverting her attention. When Merlin had saved her from her destiny, she had been indebted to him. Still was, in a way.

‘We should speak to the Dragon.’

‘Dragon?!’ Arthur looked terrified, as did the other Knights, Gwen moving to lift Merlin and settle him on her hip. So, it wasn’t just Morgana that had already grown attached to the adorable child-version of Merlin.

‘He has a soft spot for Merlin, and might be able to tell us more.’

**

The nightmare woke Merlin, who struggled up from the blankets gasping. Arthur wasn’t present, nor was Gwen, and he had a distinct feeling that something was wrong. He could feel it, deep down, stirring in his gut, but he didn’t know what to do. Carefully, he climbed out of the cot he had been given, feeling slightly bad about it. After all, he had never had his own bed, and he felt bad for leaving it. The door handle was high, but Merlin managed to use Magic to unlock it, slipping out into the corridor.

Something was wrong. But the question was, what did he do? He could attempt to find the nice Lady, Gwen, or the one who had Magic, Morgana. However, he didn’t know where they were. That was an issue, and the solution to it wasn’t a good one. He knew where one of the Knight’s stayed, the one that had winked at him earlier. He had been talking to Arthur about how he was one of the closest to Arthur’s Chambers, had called him “Princess”, which for some reason, made Merlin laugh.

Padding down the corridor, Merlin wondered how anyone walked this far through the Castle. It was such a long walk, and he was already tired, the stairs far too big for him to climb safely. He hadn't seen stairs like this before, there weren’t any in Ealdor, and all the homes were close together. It was for security and safety, when Cenred’s men came, people could warn each other. It took a while, but he finally reached the door that his gut told him belonged to the Knight.

Fear settled in the pit of his stomach, memories that couldn’t have happened yet, because they involved a slightly older Merlin and Cenred’s Knights. They were dangerous, his Mother had warned him of them ever since he could understand. They were quick-tempered, loved using the word “bastard” whenever they were around Merlin, occasionally would hit his Mother if she tried to get in the way. That was why she had gone, travelling away and told him she would be back in a couple of days.

Instead, he found himself in Camelot, with people that knew a big secret about him, and were apparently trying to keep him safe. Gwen had promised the Knights would keep him safe, that nothing would hurt him, and it drove him to knocking on the door in front. It hurt his knuckles slightly, but he didn’t show it, watched as the door opened and candlelight illuminated the face of the Knight.

‘Merlin?’ He must have been sleeping, for the voice was rough, deep, and slightly scary. He refused to wince, told himself that he could trust this Knight, the one they called Gwaine.

‘Somethin’ wrong. Bad feeling.’ He hoped that the Knight wouldn’t underestimate such a thing, wouldn’t laugh like his Mother occasionally did, ignoring the warning. From the way Gwaine grabbed a shirt and tugged it on, he figured that the Knight did understand.

‘What’s wrong, Merlin? Can you show me?’ Could he? How did he even begin to show such a thing? Merlin reached out hesitantly, scared, and Gwaine crouched down and smiled. It was supposed to be reassuring, but all Merlin could think about was the dream, with fire and shouting and someone slumped by a gate, a sword through his chest. His fingers touched the temple of the Knight, conveyed the thoughts that he had seen in his dream.

‘Shit, Elyan’s on watch.’ Gwaine gripped his sword, went to barrel past him, before looking down.

‘Can you come with me?’ Merlin paused, before remembering that Elyan, the Knight Gwaine was talking about, was the brother of Gwen. The friendly lady had done so much for him, he owed her, and so he reached up with his small arms for the Knight, who scooped him up.

‘I’ll keep you safe, Merlin. I promise.’ Another promise, and somewhere, deep down, he knew the Knight would not break it. Breathing in a scent that his Magic told him he recognised, Merlin hoped they were in time to save the Knight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, Baby Merlin trusting Gwaine, and Morgana being a good friend


	6. Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's looking out for Gwaine, and we get to see Morgana :)

Gwaine narrowly avoided the sword that came swinging, kicked his leg out and unbalanced the first man. The second was rushing to Elyan, who was more than capable of handling himself, quick to meet the hit and block it, before it could cause any damage. How Merlin had known this was going to happen, Gwaine didn’t know, but he was thankful for it. Five men in total, which would have pushed Elyan’s abilities, but with the two of them, they could manage.

Plus, one of the five had already been knocked out by three apples, that somehow flew through the air and hit the man at such a speed, that he was unconscious. He had a feeling that Merlin wasn’t hiding in the crate that Gwaine had put him in, although it didn’t surprise him.

Once the last man had been knocked out, Elyan sounded the alarm for the next Guard to go to the Castle to find back-up, to help them drag the men to the cells.

‘How did you know?’ Elyan panted, hands on his knees as he attempted to catch his breath. Gwaine went to say something sarcastic, absentmindedly rubbing the blood from scratch on his face, but Merlin chose that moment to tumble from the crate and land on the cobbled floor.

‘Ah, I see.’ Gwaine scooped the kid up, careful not to frighten him, more than aware that Merlin wasn’t too fond of them. In fact, he looked terrified of Elyan, eyes wide and hands trembling slightly. It was odd, seeing Merlin like this, especially given Gwaine’s… fondness, of the man. Just the other day, Arthur had pulled him aside to chastise him on the way he treated Merlin, telling him it wasn’t right to play with the sorcerer. He would have been angry, but he knew Arthur was just trying to protect the person he saw as his closest friend, not that the Princess would ever say that.

A hand closed over the cut, a buzzing warmth that spread across his body, lighting up every nerve. He let his eyes close, let the heat settle the adrenaline coursing from the fight. When his eyes flicked open, Merlin was staring at him curiously, with a look that he recognised from other moments shared with the servant. Maybe, just maybe, there was more of the old Merlin than they had first thought.

‘You rang the alarm?’ Percival came jogging over, froze when he saw the unconscious men and Merlin, tucked safely against Gwaine’s chest, already falling asleep.

**

Arthur was pacing in his Chambers, waiting for his Knights to return. Morgana and Gwen were seated on the edge of the bed, having been woken when Arthur found Merlin missing from his Cot. A Knight brought word that Merlin was with the Knights of the Round Table, though it did little to squash his rising panic. What had he been thinking, leaving the boy unattended? Both Gwen and Morgana had been unimpressed, that was clear, and he didn’t want Merlin hurt.

The door opened, Elyan and Percival walking in first. Apart from a few blood-stains, Elyan looked unharmed, which was reassuring. Leon and Lancelot had arrived earlier, to state that they would process the men in the Dungeons and report back to him in the morning. That left just one of his Knights, who slipped into the room last. Gwaine was gentle, careful moving, his arm cradling a sleeping Merlin, who was wrapped up with his hands clutched in the hem of the shirt.

‘Is…’

‘He’s fine, just tired. He used Magic to help in the fight.’ Gwaine spoke quietly, laying his sword down in favour of supporting Merlin with both hands, a fond smile on his face. Arthur felt something tug in his stomach, remembered warning that he gave his Knight to stop flirting with his servant. Watching them now, he wondered if Gwaine, for once in his life, might actually be serious.

‘And to heal you.’ Elyan smugly pointed out, Gwaine ignoring him to walk Merlin across to the cot. He placed him down gently, still cradling him as if he feared breaking the kid. Arthur watched as he tucked him in, stole one last look before walking back.

‘How did you know?’

‘Merlin saw it. Came to find me.’ Not Gwen, or Morgana, or even Arthur. Went to find Gwaine. It looked like he would have to have words with his manservant as well about the correct way to court a Knight. Especially one like Gwaine.

‘Good night, Sire.’ Each bid him good night, Gwaine just about to walk out when a small voice echoed across the Chamber.

‘Night, Gwaine.’ If Arthur hadn't had been staring, he might have missed the quick flash of emotion that showed on the Knight’s face. As it was, it disappeared quickly.

‘Sleep well, Merlin.’

**

Morgana walked through the Castle, back in the direction of her Chambers. They hadn't been touched since she left, Uther having locked the door and barred entry, Arthur having restored it to its previous glory. She was thankful for her brother’s attention, for his love, despite how much she had done wrong. Without Merlin, she may have fallen to a very different fate, never being able to see that Arthur just needed time to show his emotions.

She could see it, when he looked at Gwen. It was a thing that was slowly blossoming, taking time to develop fully, but it would be marvellous to see when complete. As for Morgana, her attention was focused on a certain Knight, who she wasn’t even sure thought of her as a friend. Lancelot had initially been interested in Gwen, but her heart was sold to Arthur, and sometimes, the Priestess could imagine the same loving gaze directed to her.

Speaking of, Morgana jolted when she saw Lancelot walking in this direction. His eyes lit up slightly, a smile spreading as he spotted her, coming to a stop. Would her brother allow such a match? And, even if he did, would Lancelot even feel the same way?

‘Lady Morgana, a pleasure, as always.’ A slight bow of his head, and she felt her cheeks heat slightly.

‘Please, Lancelot, no need for formality amongst friends.’ If she stayed in Camelot permanently, there could be a chance of something. It was tempting, but she had devoted her life to exploring the realms of her power, to better support Emrys in his mission to defend Albion. How could she do that, if her heart was straying? Then again, Merlin was under the attention of one of the Knights, even if he was blind to it.

The conversation was brief, and as he left, Lancelot took her hand to kiss her knuckles, a brief thing. Despite that, her heart picked up, a smile on her face as she walked the rest of the way to her Chambers.

If Merlin had altered her Destiny, there was no reason she couldn’t alter her own.


	7. Butterflies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little Hurt! Gwen, but Merlin is there to look after her

‘You’re an idiot!’ Morgana threw a pillow at his head, while the Knights pretended to not be concerned. Arthur ducked it, was rather annoyed that his sister was acting like this. How was he to know what Merlin could do with his Magic, if neither his servant, nor sister, would tell him? So far, all he knew was that Merlin was obsessed with trying to keep him safe. Another pillow came flying, and Arthur caught it, tempted to throw it back.

‘He’s the idiot, Magic in Camelot, during my father’s reign?’ That earned him a glare, before her eyes glowed and he actually stumbled back a couple of steps. The silence was terrible, everyone waiting for Arthur to react, while he tried to get used to the fact that his own sister had just used Magic against him.

The next moment, Morgana was gasping for breath, hand clutching at her neck and her cheeks beginning to flush. She stumbled, Lancelot reaching for her, before Arthur spotted the culprit.

Merlin’s eyes glowed golden slightly, from where he was perched in Gwen’s arms, but he didn’t seem to be straining to attack Morgana.

‘Merlin!’ Arthur didn’t mean to shout, more confused than anything else, but Morgana didn’t seem bothered. Whatever child-Merlin had done, it didn’t seem permanent, she was standing up and looking at the kid with a smile.

‘I mean him no harm, Merlin. He’s quite safe.’ Merlin seemed puzzled, like he hadn't realised he had been protecting him, and Arthur could feel the beginning of a headache coming on. Dealing with all of this was going to have him going grey in no time, he thought miserably.

**

Gwen stifled a sob, hurrying back to Arthur’s Chambers. Her wrist ached, bruised badly, and tears were making her vision slightly blurry. It wasn’t the first time that some Knight thought he would put her in her place, especially the older ones, that didn’t agree with her slightly too-close bond with Arthur. It wasn’t even the first time one had struck her. But this time, she had genuinely been terrified.

Normally, she would try and hide, but she was supposed to be looking after Merlin. She reached Arthur’s Chambers, knowing he wasn’t there, and slipped in. Locking the door behind her, she put a fist to her mouth to catch the sob, slumping down against the door.

‘Gwen?’ A small voice, followed by a tugging at her skirt. She looked up, found a concerned pair of blue eyes staring.

‘I’m fine, Merlin.’ From the wobbling of the words, she saw his disbelief. Fingers reached for the bruising, closing over the marred skin, before a warmth took over. It couldn’t stop her tears, but she pulled the tiny-sorcerer onto her lap, held him tight as he healed what he could. She knew she should tell Arthur, knew that he would do something, but that seemed like giving in. And the last thing she wanted was for the Knight, Sir Davrick, to get any more leverage over her.

For a second, she couldn’t understand what she was seeing. Merlin was taking her hand, guiding her to stand up, and she felt it. The same warm glow, but this time she could see it, bright like a flame. It touched her skin, but it wasn’t hot, it didn’t burn. Instead, it danced up her arm, patterns forming that made her gasp.

Merlin, meanwhile, was busy creating more images. Butterflies filled the room, bright blue lights twinkled and the candles lit, Gwen laughing as the flame that was wrapped around her nudged her into the middle of the room.

**

Merlin focused on the laughing woman, on where the butterflies were settling around her head in a crown, others on her dress. Gwen was dancing, her hand gripping her dress as she twirled, the butterflies following the movement. He kept a close watch on the flame, a bright blue by this point, that danced up and around her dress, changing it from a plain gown to one that he figured would be fit for a woman courting the King.

He wasn’t sure why someone had hurt her. The bruises had been easy to heal, but that hadn't been the point. Someone had laid a hand on his closest friend, the one that looked after him, and he didn’t like it. His Magic was acting on instinct, trying to make her smile brighter. It was working, he had never seen her this happy, dancing around with the bright flame chasing her, encased by a globe of Magic, humming happily as she smiled.

Whoever Sir Davrick was, he wasn’t having much luck. Merlin’s Magic had found him on the training field, with the King, and had taken great pleasure in breaking his sword, and making him fall into the mud. Now, Merlin was tempted to have him admit to hurting Gwen to the King, but he wasn’t sure he could do such a thing from this distance.

Gwen was on the bed by this point, standing on it and laughing as the light raced up the posts of the bed, around the walls of the room, over the furniture. Everywhere it touched, light radiated out, butterflies of all colours flitting around. What Gwen didn’t know, was that the more she enjoyed it, the more the Magic followed her. Merlin was content to watch, wondering why his Mother insisted he hide his talent. Gwen looked happy, the tears that had stained her cheeks long forgotten, and the boy wished she was always this happy.

Was his Mother missing him? Or was she glad that he was gone, no longer a burden? That couldn’t be true, she loved him, she told him as much when she tucked him up with a blanket at night. But then there were the other times, when the other people in the village mocked her for having him, called him a bastard. When that happened, she didn’t seem happy with him, looked sad like Gwen had done. And if he dared use Magic, she would lecture him, sending him to bed without dinner.

Here, they seemed to encourage him to use his Magic. Merlin loved it, the warmth that he felt in his stomach when he could make others happy. Then why did it feel so bad? Why, deep down, did he know that something bad was coming up? If something was going to happen, why did he not use his Magic to defend himself?

**

The Knights noticed, alright. Sir Davrick was angry, covered in mud, and his sword lay in pieces below him. He raged and ranted about how it hadn't been his fault, and although Arthur worked to convince him the causes were natural, he did not believe that. Was it Merlin? But why would the boy be attacking one of his Knights? Mischief?

He walked with his closest friends, ready to discuss going to summon a Dragon. The door to his Chambers opened, and Arthur froze, blinking at the sight.

‘Oh, Sire!’ Gwen scrambled off his bed, stumbling slightly and being caught by… light. Blue light, blue flames, that danced around her like she had summoned them herself. Then there was the butterflies, covering every inch of the room. Some had rested in her hair, almost like a crown, and Arthur could not help but stare at her. She looked stunning, a dress of rich blues and gold, a faint glow surrounding her.

His Chambers were covered in the blue light that had stopped her from falling, it raced around and pulsed, like it was alive. The Knights pushed past him, all wanting to see what had caused Arthur to go still, when the King spotted Merlin. Sitting in one corner, eyes no longer blue, but a deep gold. No doubt he was the one that caused this, and Arthur thought he had never seen something so beautiful.

‘What’s going… oh, woah.’ Morgana had arrived, stepping into the room and shutting it behind her. After their argument this morning, they had been cordial enough to each other, but he knew she had a point. He hadn't bothered asking Merlin about his Magic, and now, he wished he had. It was stunning.

‘We can tidy this.’ Gwen looked worried, biting her lower lip like she feared retribution, and Merlin was staring at Morgana. His sister gasped, turned to him with a glare.

‘One of your Knights needs to be spoken to, Arthur, about the correct way to treat a Lady.’ Arthur was confused, until he caught Gwen looking at the floor, the dark blush across her cheeks. Merlin chose that time to come across to her side, to take her hand and smile up at her.

‘Gwen?’ He inquired softly, not wanting to jump to conclusions, but already feeling his anger grow.

‘It was nothing, he just told me that I should stop…’ She looked to Merlin, like the words weren’t suitable for his ears, and Arthur tensed. Elyan looked no better, hand instinctively reaching for the sword on his belt, and the King didn’t miss the way Merlin’s eyes tracked the movement.

‘Did he hurt you?’ The butterflies were moving, landing on her like they wanted to cheer her up, and it was working. Her smile was returning, a softness in her eyes as she smiled to Merlin.

‘A couple of bruises, nothing Merlin couldn’t heal.’

At that moment, the door flung open, Sir Davrick himself standing in the space. Arthur’s first instinct was to punch the man, before noting the bruise on his cheekbone, and the ones around his wrist.

‘Sire, these marks just appeared! It must be…’ He fell silent, evidently focused on the butterflies that were filling the room, or maybe on the blue light that was now changing to a deep red, angry. Arthur didn’t need to be a genius to work out that the bruises must be of Merlin’s Magic, probably the same ones that he had given Gwen. He didn’t need to look to his Knights to know they would listen to his command, knew how much they all loved Guinevere.

‘Take him to the Dungeons for the night, I’ll deal with him in the morning.’ He ignored the protests from his former-Knight, turned back to where Merlin was standing, saw the grin on the boy’s face.

‘Thank you.’ Arthur said, sincerely, and the young boy offered him that smile, the one Merlin gave when he did something but didn’t expect praise.

Arthur missed his friend.


	8. Kilgharrah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin meets Kilgharrah

‘Who do you want to ride with?’ Merlin blinked at the question, realised that he was being asked to choose. On the one hand, he did want to ride with Gwen. But her horse was the smallest, and he didn’t want to put strain on her. Plus, Gwen was the least confident rider, and so he looked next to Morgana. He wasn’t sure about her, had seen the rage she had with Arthur, and the Magic she used against him.

For some reason, that had bothered him. So, not Morgana, not until he figured out why his Magic responded so well to hers, or why she was arguing with the King. Then, there was Arthur, but Merlin was still terrified of the red-caped Knight, even if he was the King, and he had been nothing but friendly towards him. He still couldn’t quite believe that he was allowed to use Magic in front of him, it seemed almost too-good to be true.

Logically, that left one person. Merlin was honestly getting quite tired of the way that the adults seemed to keep a big distance between themselves, he only had small legs, and it took a lot of energy to run across to Gwaine. The Knight gave him a lopsided smile, lifted him up and settled him on the back of his horse, before swinging up behind. Safe, even if the man was a Knight and therefore dangerous.

The ride was pleasant, he liked the fresh air, felt his Magic hum happily with it. He wasn’t sure why they were going to the open field, why they tied the horses a way back and moved cautiously to the space. He was beginning to think that he wasn’t supposed to be small, because the longer he stayed with these people, the more he remembered things that couldn’t have happened yet.

Like when Arthur’s sword caught the sun, glinting slightly, and Merlin could remember watching someone be struck with that blade, someone he cared about. Could remember tears, holding someone, blood spilling out. The young boy shook his head, stuck close to Gwaine as the group gathered on the grass. Maybe he could tell Gwen about it later, but would she tell Arthur?

He missed his Mother. Gaius came to check on him every so often, and he was growing fond of the old man, but he missed his Mother’s warm touch and soft smiles. He missed sitting on her lap, her fingers threading through his hair, her voice humming softly to get him to sleep. Wondering if she had returned from her trip out of the village, Merlin looked up the bigger humans, who were discussing the best way to summon a Dragon.

‘Can’t you do it?’

‘What part of “it has to be a Dragonlord” was so hard to understand?’ Merlin liked Morgana, but she could be scary at times. The bickering continued, until Gwaine crouched down and smiled at him, Merlin instinctively smiling back. The others were too wrapped up to notice how the Knight was staring at him, not looking across until Gwaine spoke.

‘Hey, buddy, do you remember the Dragon?’ So, he was supposed to remember? Flashes of memory, of a dark cave, of fire being breathed, of Merlin standing with Arthur while shouting. Words flicking around in his head, bouncing around like every other thought. He gave the Knight a nod, realised the others had gone quiet.

‘D’you think you can do it? Call him for us?’ Gwaine looked so hopeful, and so Merlin gave a tentative nod, let the Knight squeeze his shoulder in reassurance. He moved away slightly, looked up to the sky, wondering how best to do this. It felt like he knew how to do this, something stirring in his gut, so he gave in to the feeling. It would be worth it, if Gwen and Gwaine and Morgana were proud.

 _‘O Drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd’hup’anankes!’_ His voice sounded different, stronger, and he stumbled back after the speech.

He was surprised by the sound of beating wings, ran to Gwaine and tucked himself behind the Knight’s legs. The creature was huge!

**

Morgana took a hesitant step forwards, looked to the Dragon as it studied her.

‘Morgana Pendragon. This is a surprise.’ She didn’t like the Dragon. He had been the one to tell Merlin to kill her, that she had no destiny besides being Arthur’s downfall.

‘Kilgharrah.’ The Dragon looked to Arthur, whose hand was hovering over the hilt of his sword like he intended to use it.

‘Ah, the Once and Future King. It is, shall we say, an honour.’ If the name bothered Arthur, he didn’t show it. Morgana watched as Merlin peeked out from behind Gwaine’s legs, and the Dragon focused on him.

‘Young Warlock, I see you’ve gotten into a situation.’

‘You’re huge!’ Merlin, seeing no threat, scampered forwards and up the Dragon, offered out his hand. Morgana didn’t miss the way that the Knights tensed, like they wanted to stop Merlin, to keep him safe. Kilgharrah, mostly compelled to obey a Dragonlord, lowered his head to press against the boy’s hand. She’s known about his powers, but something about seeing a four-year-old boy with such power had her mind blown.

‘Emrys tells me that it’s connected to the lunar cycle.’ Kilgharrah turned to her again, while Merlin ran across to one of his scaly legs and began prodding. None of the Knights, nor Arthur or Gwen, where brave enough to go and get the boy back.

‘It will reverse, on the night of the full moon. I can do nothing more for him.’ Morgana had expected as much, called Merlin and watched him come running back, tiny legs pumping furiously as he hurried to her side.

‘Be careful, young Warlock, danger is coming your way.’ Great, Morgana thought, looking down to an oblivious Merlin, who had already become fascinated with the flowers that were growing at the edge of the field. The Dragon spared one last look, before taking to the skies.

‘Trouble?’ Arthur questioned, seemingly able to breathe now that the Dragon had gone. The group looked to where Merlin was attempting to lure a rabbit from the undergrowth, and Morgana knew they were all thinking the same thing.

How were they supposed to keep Merlin safe like that?

**

Arthur was at his table that night, listening to Merlin stubbornly refusing a bath, while Gwen tried to coax him into the warm water with promises of strawberries later. If the loud splashing sound, and Gwen’s squeak were anything to go by, he figured it had worked.

‘Sire.’ Lancelot stuck his head around the door, pausing on the sight of Gwen and Merlin, before looking back to him.

‘What is it?’ Arthur was tired, and from the looks of his Knight, things were about to get worse.

‘We have word from King Lot’s kingdom, one of his Knights, Sir Alvar, is coming to Camelot. Apparently, word had spread of…’ He trailed off, glancing to where there were now small balls of water floating in the air, Gwen protesting and telling Merlin to put them down, while the boy grinned with mischief. Arthur wondered how Hunith had ever managed to deal with him.

‘Of?’

‘Magic, sire. More specifically, Merlin’s Magic.’ Well, Arthur thought, glancing to Merlin who had fallen still, the balls of water dropping. Two managed to hit an already soaked Gwen, one the fire that was now hissing and mostly steam, and one onto the floor.

‘Alvar?’ Merlin’s voice piped up, becoming more and more common in conversations. Arthur was glad the boy trusted them, but from the looks on the kid’s face, this wasn’t good news.

‘Prepare the staff.’ Arthur instructed, turning back to Lancelot, who bowed his head and left. Arthur went to ask Merlin what he knew about the man, but the boy had already gone deathly quiet, and the King wasn’t stupid enough to push that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, another issue for Merlin coming up, and a surprise visit next Chapter


	9. Aithusa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angsty fluff this chapter, and another Dragon

The boy giggled, hid behind the curtain as the Knight passed by, then continued his journey. The sun was shining brightly, it was quite a warm day, and Merlin had been left unattended. Ensuring Gwen was with Morgana, he had snuck from the Castle, and was currently on his way out of the City. He had memorised the way yesterday, when they had ridden out, so the path was a familiar one.

It was the dream that he had last night, driving him to move quicker, ducking behind a stall and avoiding the patrol. He was about to continue on his quest, when a hand clamped over his arm. His first instinct was to duck, to bow hid head in submission and wait for the blow to be delivered, but when nothing happened, he peeked up.

Gwaine. Merlin uncurled, released the tension and grinned up to his friend, before spotting Lancelot as well. That Knight seemed alright, he trusted him as well, even if he had a difficult name to say.

‘Merlin, what on Earth are you doing?’ Merlin wondered if he could trust them with such a secret. He wasn’t sure, but decided that if the visions he had seen were true, then these two people had been his friends. He placed his hand into Gwaine’s larger one, tugging him onwards, and the Knights followed. He didn’t have to hide, not now he had an escort, and nobody stopped him as they exited the city.

Back in the field they had come to, Merlin pacing in circles before looking to the sky.

‘Is he summoning the Dragon again?’ Merlin repeated the words, but this time it was different. He waited patiently, and sure enough, he heard the squawk and familiar sound of wings.

‘Bloody Hell.’ Merlin was surprised by Lancelot’s words, but then again, it must have been quite shocking.

The Dragon seemed just as intrigued of Merlin, as he was of it. The bond between them was strong, had been since Merlin hatched him, and right now, they both took comfort in the fact that they were small.

‘Another Dragon.’ Gwaine muttered, before Merlin beckoned him closer. The Knight didn’t hesitate, evidently trusted Merlin, and stepped towards them. Aithusa, that was the name Merlin had gifted the beautiful Dragon, willingly let the Knight touch his snout, before wrapping one wing over the Dragonlord protectively.

‘He’s gorgeous. Does he have a name?’ Merlin nodded brightly, glad that someone understood his passion for these wonderful creatures.

‘A… Aithusa.’ Gwaine nodded, his hand moving along the jawline, Aithusa nuzzling closer to the Knight.

‘Does he speak?’ Merlin shook his head, his Dragon was only a baby, was still maturing under Kilgharrah’s guardianship. This Dragon would one day be the only Dragon remaining, Kilgharrah was old, and it was a sad thing to see the race brought down to the two of them. He hoped, somewhere out there, another egg would exist. That he could bring Aithusa a mate, a partner to live the ages with. After all, they would live for a very long time, longer than the others.

‘Merlin? Merlin what’s wrong?’ He was crying, he realised, buried his head into Gwaine’s cape. Lancelot had come closer, sitting in the grass with them, Aithusa laying his tail across Lancelot’s cape.

'I don’t want y’to leave.’ Gwaine tensed, placed his large hands on Merlin’s shoulders, pulled him back so Merlin could stare up into concerned eyes.

‘We’re not leaving you, Merlin. Nothing’s going to happen.’ Merlin sobbed harder, Aithusa offering a small, pained sound in understanding of his plight.

‘You’re all g’unna grow, n’I’m stuck.’ Gwaine’s thumb brushed under his cheek, chasing away the tears that were falling.

‘Merlin, you’ll be back to normal in no time. Back with us.’ Merlin realised that they didn’t know, and he choked back a breath, looking up. He took Gwaine’s hand in his, gripped it tightly.

‘M’a Warlock.’ Confusion, they still didn’t get it. He was trying to think of the right word, and when he found it, he looked back to the two friends. His heart told him they were close, that he trusted them, that he would do anything to keep them safe. Which made it all the more painful, thinking about leaving them. No, them leaving him.

‘Immortal. M’ not going to grow old.’ The grip on him tightened, to the point it could have bruised, but he realised that the Knight didn’t mean it. Both Knights seemed shocked, actual tears in Gwaine’s eyes.

‘You… Merlin…’

‘Don’t want t’be alone.’ Merlin mumbled, tucked his head under Gwaine’s chin and hoped that he could keep them forever, that they would stay by his side. Resting on his lap, Aithusa let out a deep breath, supporting Merlin even though he couldn’t yet speak.

**

‘Has anyone seen my Knights? Or Merlin?’ Arthur sat at the Round Table, Morgana to his left, Guinevere to his right. Although they were not yet married, nobody would deny her that place, it was hers, and hers alone. The table was filled out, with everyone apart from Merlin, Gwaine and Lancelot.

Speak of his missing Knights, the doors opened, Lancelot coming in quickly and bowing, Gwaine in tow.

‘Sorry we’re late, sire. We ran into…’ His words were stopped by a creature that bounded in, jumping up onto the table and the Knights drawing swords. The creature in question, _was that a bloody Dragon?,_ seemed amused by such a display.

‘Sire, it’s alright, it’s… Merlin’s.’ Gwaine trailed off, placing down a tiny-Merlin with red-rimmed eyes, puffy and swollen, and it was then that the people in the room noted that both Knights looked like they had been crying as well. Nobody asked, more worried about the Dragon that was bounding across to Morgana.

‘Well, hello there, what’s your name?’ She tickled under its chin, like the creature was a dog, and the damned this seemed to enjoy the touch. Merlin had scrambled up onto a chair, his chair, and was looking across.

‘Merlin called it Aithusa. Apparently, it’s his.’ His? Arthur was lost, looking to Gaius for help, presuming the physician knew about this. Indeed, he appeared to, but the old man was too busy staring in awe to answer Arthur’s silent query, until the King cleared his throat.

‘Aithusa was sired by Merlin, sire. He hatched it, as only a Dragonlord can do.’ Merlin had taken to crawling across the table to reach the Dragon, which had left Morgana’s side to play with the boy. It seemed they could communicate, even without speech.

‘Anything else you need to tell me?’ Arthur looked directly at Lancelot, knowing that the Knight was more likely to tell him that Gwaine. Strangely, the Knight looked to his friend, then to Merlin, before shaking his head.

‘It is not my story to tell, sire. Sorry.’ Another thing added to the list of questions the King had about Merlin.

‘Where the Hell am I supposed to keep a Dragon?’ Arthur pointed out, and the room fell silent, save for Merlin’s giggles as the Dragon pounced on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Merlin, and poor Arthur!


	10. Ar'tur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Arthur fluff, Morgana being a legend

‘Ar’tur?’ The King watched the boy get out of his cot, wobble across to the end of the bed, then look up at him hesitantly. He hadn't been sleeping, to preoccupied listening to Merlin toss and turn, the whimpers coming from him as he slept fitfully.

‘C’mere, Merlin.’ The kid didn’t need to be told twice, scrambling up the bed and curling under the sheets, moving closer than Arthur thought he would dare. Once he finally stopped wriggling, Arthur took a risk.

‘Want to talk about it?’ He heard a small breath, a gasp almost, before the kid rolled over. Even in the dark, the big eyes were hard to miss, staring up at him in pain.

‘Don’t w’anna grow old.’ Arthur missed his Merlin. But he also was beginning to realise that he had never treated his Merlin with the same respect he got treated with. He barely knew anything about his manservant, except that the boy had some Magic. Now, that knowledge was being stretched, tested, and Arthur couldn’t help but be inspired.

‘Why not?’ He almost whispered the words, kept them soft, and saw the boy hesitate. A small, skinny hand yet child-like chubby fingers reached out across the distance between them.

‘Can show you?’ Arthur was still wary around Magic, perhaps because he grew up being taught that it was evil, down to the core. But how could Merlin be evil? Morgana, perhaps. He saw it in her sometimes, a darkness that made him shudder, but then his sister pushed back through and it calmed any fear he might have. This, however, was Merlin. His manservant, who he had known for years. The man that managed to trip over everything, joke his way out of any situation, and had no respect for his title as King. How could he ever be seen as dangerous?

‘Okay.’ Arthur agreed, realised that Merlin had been waiting for his approval before doing anything. A hand brushed over his forehead lightly, and Arthur was gone.

**

_He hurt. Everywhere. Aches, bruises, he might have even fractured a rib. It felt bad, and as Merlin rose his head, he knew that Will was pitying him. His friend came towards him, sat down on the edge of the river-bank with him._

_‘Merlin…’_

_‘Don’t.’ He snapped, shoved off his shirt and trousers to stare at the bruises littering his form. With Will’s help, he managed to get to the water, shivering as it rushed over him. Freezing, not really soothing the bite of the bruises, but it was better than nothing._

_‘I’m sorry.’ Will offered. Merlin turned to him, shrugged._

_‘As long as Mum is safe.’ And wasn’t that the truth? He washed the dirt and grime from his skin, while Will watched over him._

_‘Things will be different, once you go to Camelot.’ He could have got angry, that was what he wanted to do, be angry with Will._

_‘Different? I’m just trading one arsehole of a Knight for another.’ Will’s pained face told Merlin just how bad he looked, how bad the bruising was. He didn’t acknowledge his friend anymore, turned to the water and scrubbed his face of tears. Camelot would be different._

**

Gwen was walking in the direction of Arthur’s Chambers, food in hand, when she ran into Gwaine.

‘Morning, my Lady.’ He bowed his head, like the other Knights had been doing ever since Arthur started Courting her, like she already had the title of Queen. She blushed, a habit, and he offered to take one of the trays from her. She liked Gwaine, he was one of her favourite Knights, and he was good for Merlin. Their friendship just kept growing, and she was glad that Merlin had someone that would protect him.

‘News for the King?’ Word had spread quickly that a Knight from King Lot’s Kingdom was coming to stay, to inquire about Merlin’s Magic. Morgana had already invited herself to the meeting, claiming adamantly that she needed to be there to keep Merlin safe. The Knights had all signed themselves up, as had Gwen, ready to see who this Knight was, and what he wanted.

‘Sir Alvar is arriving today, and has requested an audience with both the King and Merlin.’ Gwen noticed the issue, that Merlin still had seven days until the spell was broken. Morgana had pointed out that the boy had been remembering a lot more recently, evidence that his Magic was starting to get “fed-up” by the limiting body, and Gaius had said it wouldn’t be surprising if he broke the curse early. Guinevere was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that Merlin, her best friend, was the most powerful sorcerer to walk the Earth.

‘This can’t be good news.’ They had all wanted to question Merlin on who the Knight was, but it became apparent that Arthur wasn’t going to let it happen. Gwen knocked twice on the King’s door, before opening it.

The scene was adorable. Merlin was sprawled out across Arthur’s chest, fast-asleep, one of the King’s hands in his hair, the other, Merlin clutching at desperately. Arthur himself was awake, propped up slightly by pillows, and his eyes flicked across to the two of them as they walked in. He didn’t seem bothered at being disturbed during such a moment, although his eyes did glare at Gwaine, warning him.

‘Sorry for disturbing you.’ Gwen remarked, placing down the tray of food on the table.

‘No need, Guinevere, I’m awake.’ Merlin wasn’t, still adorably scrunched up on top of Arthur, like he belonged there. Honestly, he kind of did, close to the King was always the easiest way to find Merlin. Arthur’s attention turned to Gwaine, who snapped out of the trance he was in, clearing his throat.

‘Sir Alvar is arriving today, Princess, and has asked for an audience with the two of you.’ The King frowned, shifted minutely while cradling Merlin, as if he feared disturbing him.

‘We could ask him…’

‘No. Leave it be.’ Arthur’s tone left no room for argument, it was evident that he wasn’t even going to entertain the possibility to questioning Merlin. Gwaine sighed, bowed his head, before leaving hastily.

‘Breakfast?’ Gwen said in a fake-cheer, determined to lighten the mood.

**

Morgana was surprised at the company, but would never deny the company. Lancelot chatted away happily, occasionally stopping to ask her questions or inquire as to her life, but for the most part, she was happy to listen to the Knight. If Arthur knew she had invited him for breakfast, alone in her Chambers, he would probably have had a meltdown. Then again, he was busy looking after Merlin and Gwen, didn’t have time to pay too close of an eye on her.

‘If I may be as bold, my Lady, you look stunning today.’ Flirting. That was what was going on, flirting, and she adored it. She felt the blush rise to her cheeks, was unsure of how to respond to such a thing. She had grown up guarded by Uther, no man would have even attempted to lay a claim to her, and she always thought the King would use her as a bargaining chip at some point. But no, he had been content to hide the truth from her, locking her up in Camelot and never telling her the truth.

‘You’re not so bad yourself, Sir Lancelot.’ Sir, the title he had always wanted, gifted by Arthur when he was made a Knight of Camelot. The founder of a new house, a new title for himself. Lancelot had a charming smile, one that melted her where she sat, before he looked outside.

‘Arthur will be expecting me on the training grounds. If I might be as bold, will I see you later on, lunch perhaps?’ There he was, the smooth-talking Knight that Morgana could not deny, nodded happily and smiled when he took her hand, kissing her knuckles lightly.

‘Off with you, before I change my mind.’ She joked, and Lancelot’s laugh was enough to keep her smiling, despite the thoughts of Uther that played in the back of her mind.


	11. Sir Alvar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our first look at Sir Alvar, and some protective Knights! with baby Merlin

Merlin knew the big people were hiding something from him. Usually, he would be content to ignore it, big people often had secrets they could not share with him. But Merlin’s Magic was telling him to get into trouble, to go and investigate whatever they were hiding, and so that was what he opted to do. Together, him and Aithusa snuck from Arthur’s chambers, the Dragon offering him a ride despite how tiny he was.

The closer they got to the main room, the room where Merlin was pretty sure he had stood proudly, watching a crown be placed upon Arthur’s head, the more his Magic seemed angry. It swirled, itched, clawed at the constraints where he kept it. Just because they said he was allowed to use his Magic, did not mean he ever wanted to. Aithusa paused, peeking around the corner, and Merlin did the same.

It was hard to miss Arthur, seated on his throne with his royal clothing on, the crown upon his head. Beside him, Morgana, dressed up with a placid expression on her face, looking out down the room. Then there were the Knights, the most loyal to Arthur, standing either side of them, with Leon at the front. Guinevere was present, as was Gaius, to the side of the hall and watching. Usually, Merlin would have found solace in the fact that they were there, but right now, his attention was on the other person in the room.

He knew him. Recognised the coloured cape, the chainmail armour that clinked as he brought himself up from a bow. Saw the leather of his boots, still scuffed as they had been when Merlin had last seen him. Every inch of his body seized up, and the boy wondered why. One of King Cenred’s men, or King Lot, according to what Guinevere had told him. And sure, maybe they passed into his home back in Ealdor, quite often really.

Again, memories Merlin couldn’t possibly remember came flooding back, matching a face and voice to the man even before Merlin had seen his front. He didn’t need to, the boy knew everything, could remember everything. Arthur was telling him things he shouldn’t, like how Merlin was currently under a curse and therefore unable to be at full capacity, that he should return at a different point. Alvar, ever astute, had already worked out that Merlin didn’t have long left, according to what the adults said, and had asked to stay.

So, when he bowed to the King and turned, they made eye contact. Merlin, sitting on the back of Aithusa, and the Knight that he remembered too well. For a moment, nothing happened, except a blank look of shock on the Knight’s face. Then, very slowly, it crept into a smile. He could hear Arthur telling Gwen to get Merlin out of the way, but she was still technically a maid, and so had to stop when he held up a hand.

‘Well hello there, Merlin of Ealdor. Do you remember me?’ He crouched down, dark eyes calculating and cold, yet filled with amusement. Merlin cocked his head, told himself that he could protect himself this time, that he had Magic. Aithusa did not take kindly to the comment, growled low in the back of his throat until the man backed away, wary of the Dragon. Despite being small, Aithusa could do a lot of damage if needed, and it seemed Sir Alvar was not willing to risk it.

With that, Merlin urged Aithusa to run, to flee from the confrontation, and they did just that.

**

They had split up to find Merlin and the Dragon, but it wasn’t honestly that hard. Convening at the edge of the boundary, each Knight looked at each other, then back to Merlin, wondering which one should be the one to go across. Arthur couldn’t leave Camelot, not with a Knight staying, and Morgana was with him. Gwen was probably also there, leaving the five of them to stare at the boy.

‘It looks dangerous.’

‘Is he the one doing this?’ Lancelot gestured to the sky, to the darkened clouds that had appeared, to the storm that they could taste in the air. Gwaine’s first instinct was to laugh, to say that no person, especially not a four-year-old boy, could summon a storm. But then Merlin thumped his tiny curled fist onto the ground, and thunder rumbled overhead.

He swallowed.

One step forwards, then another, steeling his nerves and telling himself that if anyone could speak to Merlin, it would be him. They were friends. How many times had Merlin come for him, when he got too drunk in a tavern? How many times had Merlin been there, when Gwaine thought he couldn’t keep going on like this anymore? The least he could do was be here, for him.

Aithusa, the Dragon that kept Guard, came bounding over as soon as he got too close. To begin with, the instinct to flee or to draw a weapon was major, but he held it in check. A cautious nuzzle, the Dragon circling him as if seeing his intentions, before a head butted up against his leg. Acceptance, which he thanked the Dragon for with a hand against the sloping scales along his forehead.

‘Merlin?’ A head turned to him, and sure enough, the blue eyes were replaced with a vibrant gold. In all the times that he had seen Merlin use Magic, which was actually fairly few when he was a normal-sized person, he had never noted just how much colour those eyes expressed. It was only now, when they were filled with unshed tears and they looked so afraid, that Gwaine took note of everything.

‘Hey, mate, alright if I join you?’ He didn’t wait for a reply, kicking his feet out and sitting down onto the grass. So, Merlin was angry, if the storm was anything to go by. And that was a perfectly normal emotion, one Gwaine had felt enough to know how to combat.

‘When I get angry, I focus it all on one thing, then usually try and beat it up.’ Alright, so he wasn’t the best at parenting advice, but what else was he supposed to tell the tiny ball of Merlin? Aithusa had settled down, his head on Gwaine’s legs, eyes flicking shut to indicate that there was no concern with him being here. Great, now he was feeling validated by a bloody Dragon.

‘Focus?’ Merlin asked, voice slightly wobbly. The Knights had come closer, just enough to listen, still wary of the dark sky above them.

‘Yeah. So take that tree, for instance. All that anger, upset, focus it all on the tree. You can use Magic, if it helps.’ The boy looked up, eyes far too trusting, before looking to the tree. Gwaine wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting, maybe for the tree to begin to move in the wind, perhaps for Merlin’s anger to come out in a way that slowly crippled the plant.

He didn’t expect lots of tiny, blue flowers to form around the base. He watched, mostly in awe, at the new plants that sprung to life, littering the floor like a rug around the base of the tree. Of course, Merlin would opt for something non-destructive. But, the boy still seemed angry, and the flowers were quickly spreading more than Gwaine would have liked. How was he supposed to tell his King that the entirety of Camelot was covered in flowers because of his bad-advice?

‘If it isn’t working, maybe try something… different.’ Was that the right word?

‘Perhaps something more destructive.’ Elyan added, and Merlin looked back to him. It wasn’t that they wanted him to be aggressive, it was just that they needed Merlin to calm down, and taking away the anger seemed like a more suitable option. Merlin looked to Aithusa, and the looks they shared seemed to indicate they could talk without moving their lips, which was slightly freaky. Awesome as well, Gwaine wanted that ability, but he kept quiet.

They turned to the tree. The flowers had stopped, and Merlin reached one hand out.

Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t for lightning to race down and strike the tree, burning it to the ground where it stood. The bolt retreated, followed by an onslaught of rain to douse the fire that started, and Gwaine blinked.

Merlin began to giggle, a bright laugh that was seemingly infectious, because Gwaine could not help but join in. The others followed, and soon there were five Knights, a Dragon, and a baby-Warlock lying on the grass of Camelot’s land, soaked to the bone but pleasantly happy in the company of each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, adorable. Plus Aithusa is really growing on me


	12. The attempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur's in trouble, and Merlin's in pain

‘He’s not good man, Gwen.’ Merlin remarked, eating the mouthful she offered on the fork. It was the evening, and Arthur and the Knights were dining with Sir Alvar.

‘Why not?’ Gwen inquired, soft and gentle, and the boy looked up. He decided that Gwen was one of his favourites, that she could be trusted more than most.

‘He hurts people.’ Him. He hurt him, but Merlin couldn’t figure out how, or why. It just didn’t make any sense, that Merlin could remember things that clearly hadn't happened yet. Maybe the big people were right, he wasn’t supposed to be like this, he should be like them.

_Something’s wrong._

Gwen was getting ready to scoop another mouthful, while Merlin looked around the room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, Arthur’s Chambers were fine, the fire was roaring away in the centre. So why did Merlin get the feeling that something was wrong? He looked across to Aithusa, curled up on Arthur’s bed (which the King would complain about later), and noted that the Dragon was staring back at him.

Maybe he felt it as well, Merlin considered, trying to reach out for the voice that echoed in his mind.

_Your destiny._

Merlin may not remember much, but he knew that the word Destiny played a big part in everything he did. It made his life complete, something that tied all the loose ends together, the entire reason he was here in Camelot. Gwen offered him another mouthful of food, which he accepted, while letting his Magic seep out into the surrounding area.

In Ealdor, his Mother had told him that use of Magic would make her punish him. It was the only choice, she said, to keep him safe. If anyone found out the truth, then Merlin would not be allowed to stay with her. So, why was he in Camelot? Things weren’t adding up, it didn’t seem right that Merlin was so small, when everyone else was so big.

_You’ve got to do something._

His fingers were the wrong size. His legs were too short, they should reach the floor, not dangle helplessly over the edge of the chair. Everything was wrong, and his head was starting to pound. When his Magic returned to him, the familiar warmth he had been expecting was contaminated with something darker, dangerous, eating away at the edges.

_Something’s wrong!_

His Magic was right.

Something was wrong with Arthur.

**

Arthur couldn’t move. His entire body felt paralysed, stuck in the throne, looking out at the Knight that grinned. Manic, eyes darting around the room, a look that froze Arthur’s very heart. He had been foolish, to accept a Knight that Merlin did not trust, and now he was paying the price. Around him, his most loyal Knights sat, in much the same issue as him. They could not move, they were frozen in place, with something that must have been in the food.

His eyes darted sideways, to see his sister in much the same issue, eyes frantically moving but everything else frozen. When he tried to speak, to ask the Knight what he wanted, nothing happened. Sluggishly, his mind told him that he had been drugged, that he needed to preserve energy and wait for help.

But help wasn’t coming. Merlin was a child, Gwen was with him, and the other Guards had been told not to disturb them. Nobody would know anything was wrong for hours, they were at the mercy of Sir Alvar, a Knight holding a sword, leaning against the table with a grin that proved his guilt.

‘I didn’t think it would be this easy.’ So, he had been planning. Plotting against him, the King, and now had the nerve to commit treason. Arthur silently begged for Merlin, knew that if his manservant had been his normal-self, this would have never happened. Arthur may not know much about Merlin’s Magic, had thought it nothing more than a simple thing, but he was beginning to learn so much more.

Morgana had called him a name, Emrys. Magic beyond belief, his stupid, clumsy manservant that Arthur secretly adored, cherished like the brother he never had. Merlin was a part of this family, a family that was now being cracked open by the Knight of King Lot’s.

‘But then I saw Merlin like that, and I knew I had a chance.’ Arthur should have denied the Knight access. It was his curiosity, him wanting to find out what secrets Merlin still kept from them, that had driven him to invite the man into the Castle. He’d endangered not only the Knights, but Gwen and Morgana as well. And Merlin.

‘To kill the King of Camelot, to hurt the boy who thought he could escape.’ The last bit was hissed, spat out like a curse, and Arthur was confused. He tried to manipulate his expression into showing it, glanced down to his fingers to see if they would move. A slight twitch, nothing more, nowhere near the strength he would need to run a blade through the Knight.

‘He thought he could outsmart me. Me! A Knight of noble blood, bested by a village boy. It just couldn’t stand.’ Merlin. He was talking about Merlin, and Arthur’s blood boiled. Another twitch of his fingers, while the Knight became more and more wrapped up in his commentary.

‘So I had to do something. Then along comes a druid, who tells me something very interesting.’ The Knight moved, to Arthur’s throne and crouched down, amusement lighting his eyes as he placed a hand on Arthur’s knee.

‘Two sides of a coin, the Once and Future King, and Emrys. How better to hurt one, than to kill the other?’ Arthur needed to move, had to find a way to defend himself, because time was running out. The man moved his hand, to reach back for the knife that was connected to his belt, when the doors opened.

A dragon. That stupid, dumb Dragon that had been sleeping on his bed, like Arthur hadn't noticed. He would have had it removed, had Gwaine not glared at him and told him that he couldn’t get rid of it. Plus, Merlin seemed attached.

‘Oh! A baby Dragon, this is what you call to your defence? This thing is harmless.’ Arthur watched with baited breath as the man offered out his hand to Aithusa, who looked pleased. The Dragon nuzzled at it, almost affectionately, before it’s mouth opened and the man screamed.

Fire. He jumped back, hitting the table that Percival and Elyan were seated at, grabbed the tankard of wine and dumped it over his burning forearm. Arthur held still, while the Knight rounded on Aithusa, drawing his sword.

‘S’my Dragon.’ Merlin. The stupid idiot, the imbecile, had decided to also join the fight. Somehow, he’d made it to Gwaine’s side unnoticed, now stood in the room as Alvar turned, sword pointing in his direction.

‘You! This is all your fault.’ It was snarled, the Knight lunging across the room, but Merlin didn’t even move. The sword glowed red, the man yelped and went to drop it, and the Dragon stuck its tail out so the Knight toppled head-first into the table, knocking himself out.

Big, child-like eyes turned to look up at him, and it was then that Arthur noticed the pain written across Merlin’s face.

‘Arthur. Hurts.’ And with that, Merlin toppled onto the floor next to the Knight.


	13. Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin is having issues, and too many secrets end up hurting the King

When Merlin woke up, the first thing that he thought about was how much his head hurt. Sitting up didn’t help, in fact, it made the room around him spin, and he fought to keep the nausea away. Reaching out for a cup of water that had been left by his bed, he froze.

His arm. His hand. His room. Memories came rushing back, most of them speeding through his mind fast enough that it saved the embarrassment of remembering them, but some lingered for far to long. And, once everything had snapped back into place, the headache vanished. Magic, ironic really, considering it was part of him.

The water-cup long forgotten, he rolled from the bed, pleased to find himself fully dressed. Hopefully, the curse had changed him like that, otherwise he didn’t think he could ever stand to look Arthur in the eye again, let alone the Lady Morgana, or Gwaine. But that didn’t matter at the moment, there were much bigger things to panic about, like the Knight that Arthur was underestimating.

‘Merlin!’ Gaius looked ever so pleased when he came skidding out of the room, almost falling into the table with the herbs on. Truthfully, Merlin was glad to see the man again, would have stopped for a nice long chat and some food, but Arthur was in trouble. The King seemed to spend most of his life in trouble, but this time, it might be serious. Very serious.

‘Where’s Arthur?’ Those were the words he meant to say, however his tongue felt a lot like stone, so the words were slightly slurred. Still, Gaius seemed to understand the basis of the words, said that Arthur had been going to question the Knight down in the dungeons.

He ignored Gaius’ shouts to come back, left the room in a frantic sprint to reach the King before anything else could get in between them. The courtyard definitely seemed to be smaller now that he was large again, crossing it in seconds and climbing the steps, into the Castle as fast as he dared.

Because Arthur didn’t know something, and it might get him killed.

Sir Alvar had Magic.

**

Arthur would be quite happy, if nobody else ever tried to kill him ever again. Of course, he should have expected sorcery might play a part in this attempt, but he had been so consumed by the fact that Merlin had toppled over and had a seizure on the floor, that he had entirely forgotten about the Knight.

Until he had taken his men to question the Knight, and ended up with a blade pressed to his neck. The Knights lay sprawled out, pressed to the ground thanks to the golden-eyes of the man standing behind Arthur, the blade digging in deep enough for blood to bead up. He wished he’d brought Morgana now, despite not overly trusting Magic, it would have been nice to have some on his side for once.

‘Always underestimating Magic, aren’t you?’ The man sneered, and Arthur’s eyes met Leon’s. It was true, how was he ever supposed to know the full extent of Magic, when it had been persecuted his entire life? His closest friend was apparently the most powerful sorcerer to walk the Earth, and all Arthur could think about was the fact that he somehow managed to be the biggest idiot alive as well.

‘Doesn’t matter. I’ll kill you, and your Knights, then find Merlin.’ Gwaine didn’t like that, not if the intense wriggling and muffled swearing was anything to go by. Arthur didn’t like it either, but wasn’t about to move, not when he could feel the blood trickling down his neck, soaking his shirt.

‘I’m surprised, I honestly thought he’d have told you about me.’ Yes, once this was all over, Arthur was going to have a very long conversation with his manservant about the need to be open with him. Secrets, so many of them, yet Arthur told him everything. It wasn’t fair, not that he was dwelling on that point at the moment, more concerned with getting out of this situation.

‘Then again, maybe he thought you’d send him away.’ Merlin? Never. If Arthur could deal with the fact that he had lied about having Magic, then he could deal with anything. Plus, if he even thought about trying to get rid of Merlin, he’d have five angry Knights, an angry sister, and an angry sort-of lover to contend with. Not to mention the Dragon.

‘Oh for crying out loud…’ Arthur thought the exact same thing, watched his idiotic manservant come sliding to a stop in the dungeon, almost managing to hit the wall as he did so, before they made brief eye contact. Worry, guilt, so many things that Arthur couldn’t identify. Oh yes, he was going to put Merlin in the stocks for weeks after this. Months.

‘Your fight is with me, not him. Let them go, and we can talk about this.’ Whatever this was, Arthur thought, felt the pressure of the knife loosen slightly.

‘There isn’t anything to talk about. You owe me a debt.’ Money? This was about money? Arthur could have laughed, or shouted, this was ridiculous.

‘Money?’ He was the King, if Merlin owed someone money, why did the idiot not talk to him about it?

‘Not quite, King. More like a debt of servitude.’ It took Arthur a moment to comprehend the sentence, that Merlin should have been working for this Knight, not for him. For some reason, jealousy followed the statement, and Arthur couldn’t contain his anger. He moved, stupid really, because the knife dug in further despite the hit he managed to get on the man.

It seemed to be rather a lot of blood, Arthur found himself unable to move that much, slumped down against the wall as he watched the Knight run. Merlin didn’t try to stop him, too busy rushing to Arthur’s side with eyes burning gold, lips moving, but it was quite fuzzy, if the King was honest.

His Knights were surrounding him, not going after the man that dared presume Merlin belonged to him, and Arthur wanted to shout at them for their idiocy. Instead, he found his lips unable to form the words, hands weakly grabbing at Merlin as he looked up into those golden eyes. Magic, he decided, would be the very first thing he explored, after his vision returned properly and he didn’t have a headache pounding.

Yes, Arthur seemed pleased with that, knew that Merlin wouldn’t let any harm come to him. Let his eyes shut, picturing golden Magic and Dragons.

**

‘We haven’t found any signs of him. He must have fled Camelot.’ They were, strangely enough, talking to him. Merlin was slightly shocked by the fact that the five Knights, Leon at the front, were addressing him, but then again, he was the one that had ordered them about when Arthur’s life was at stake. Now, as Merlin stayed on the bed beside the dozing King, keeping Magic on him at all times, he figured that they were doing it out of respect.

‘The main priority is to keep the King safe, we can deal with the rest later.’ Merlin mused, pressing more Magic to the delicate cut that had been made across Arthur’s neck. He was strong, but not enough to heal the scar that would stay there, not enough to completely reverse what had happened. Gwen came in, a bowl of water and rags in hand, moving to his side to help the King. Lady Morgana, technically, should have been the next person in charge, but she was currently sorting the Guards out.

An attempt on the King’s life, and Merlin was by his side, rather than hunting down the perpetrator. Perhaps because he knew this was his fault, and that Arthur was suffering because of him.

The door opened, Morgana coming in with a look of concern. Even if she did not show it, she loved her brother, didn’t want to see him hurt. Behind her, Aithusa came strolling in, to Gwaine’s side considering Merlin was busy.

‘How’s he doing?’ Gwen moved out of the way so Morgana could perch on the edge of the bed, looking at him with wide, hurt green eyes. Merlin, already feeling the strain of using so much Magic, reached across to take her hand, guiding it to Arthur’s neck, coaxing her Magic to help. She gasped, a smile brightening her face, watching the golden glow that spread as they healed him.

‘He should be fine, he just needs rest.’ Merlin pulled his own hand back, knowing that the others would have seen how much it was shaking. He needed rest, his Magic was drained, his body was aching, and now he had to find Alvar and make sure he didn’t do any more harm. Luckily, he didn’t have to go in person.

‘Aithusa.’ The Dragon was more than happy to come across, to sit by his side and look up, waiting for a command. Not that Merlin would ever give him one, not unless it was unavoidable. Instead, he bent down to press his forehead against the Dragon’s, focused on the memory of the Knight that he needed finding. Kin, that was what Kilgharrah had called them, and in that moment, he understood why. It was like he could feel Aithusa’s mind responding, his own thoughts melding with the Dragon’s, before he pulled back.

‘Thank you.’ He whispered, and the Dragon was bounding out of the (luckily open) window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to warn you guys, somebody will be dying. It isn't a major character, but someone will be dying


	14. Hiding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's still unsure, Arthur's bonding with Morgana, and Aithusa's got bad news

Merlin had never really liked waiting. With this whole Destiny thing, it began to grind on his nerves. Waiting, having patience, it seemed like it was the way to encourage bad things to come to you. So, while waiting for Arthur to wake up, Merlin was thinking about the Knight that he let get away. It had been capturing him, or risk losing Arthur. That, in itself, wasn’t a choice. He knew which way he would pick, every single time, but now he was beginning to doubt the choice.

‘You look tired.’ Gwaine took a seat beside him, the two of them looking out across Camelot. They knew so much now, he wasn’t used to being this exposed, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. He had kept hidden for years, hiding under the title of manservant, yet now people knew more about him than he ever wanted them to.

‘I’ve used a lot of Magic. It’ll take a couple of days to recover.’ It wasn’t technically true, he had Magic left, he just didn’t like using so much in one burst. Plus, by saying he needed time to recover, the others would give him some space. Which was exactly what he needed right now.

Morgana had assured him that she would stay with Arthur, to protect and heal him while Merlin took some time away. With Aithusa going after the Knight, it left Merlin quite alone, apart from Gwaine. Gwaine, who was staring right at him, probably seeing straight through the lies that Merlin had got so used to telling.

‘You know, we all care about you.’ If it was Gwaine saying it, the man that never took anything seriously in his life, then this had to be important. Merlin didn’t want to try and explain, couldn’t tell him that, for most of his life, he had been hiding. It only came naturally to keep things a secret, to bury the truth under a mountain of excuses and small, white lies.

‘I just need time.’ Merlin stated, even though the words were dry and grated against his tongue.

If the sigh was anything to go by, Gwaine knew the words were a lie as well.

**

Arthur felt like death. Or, he presumed this was what death felt like. When he managed to get his eyes peeled open, the first thing he spotted was a golden glow, something that he recognised instantly as magic. Strangely, he didn’t feel fear, just a warm fuzzy feeling, which he would deny until his deathbed.

‘You worried us.’ That wasn’t Merlin’s voice, no, that was Morgana, seated on the edge of the bed with her hand hovering over his chest. His eyes were drawn to hers, noting the dark, golden swirl, the way it moved as her hand stayed steady.

‘Is…’ That was a mistake, speaking felt like being choked, and Morgana moved from the bed to grab water. It trickled down his throat, soothing the ache almost immediately, and Arthur got back on focus of the big issue.

‘Merlin.’ Morgana was quick to assure, took his hand in hers. They hadn't been close, not since he found out about her Magic. Actually, they had drifted apart during adolescence, Morgana being able to do no wrong under Uther’s eye, while Arthur was never quite good enough. So, lying in his bed, with Morgana’s comfort, it was almost like old times.

‘He’s fine. Resting. It took a lot of strength out of him to save you.’ Oh, right, Arthur had moved into a blade. He remembered that, the sting of the metal, the feeling of his vision slipping away. His hand left Morgana’s, to reach up to his neck. A small piece of raised skin, but that was about it. Honestly, Merlin needed to stop downplaying his Magic so much.

‘The Knight?’ Morgana’s hesitation was the answer he needed, and he felt his stomach turn sour. Merlin, rather than using his Magic to catch the man, had chosen to save Arthur. Like he always did.

‘Merlin had the Knights check the city, but he had long fled.’ Arthur nodded, took another drink of the water while processing the fact that Merlin had ordered the Knights to do something. And they had done it.

‘Where is he?’ He wanted Merlin, to thank him, or to shake him for being such an idiot. Plus, they hadn't been able to talk since Merlin was tiny, and Arthur needed to ask him questions. Lots of them.

‘Probably in his room. I haven’t actually seen him since he sent Aithusa to find the Knight.’ The Dragon was gone. He should have been happy about that, but he had seen how close Merlin was to it, and knew that his manservant wouldn’t be happy that the Dragon was gone. This was ridiculous, his own father had kept a Dragon chained up under the Castle, yet here he was, having only just managed to get a baby Dragon out of his bed.

‘I need…’ He tried to get up, but was pushed back down, gently, by a hand against his chest. Morgana’s eyes were no longer glowing, just the deep green that were currently filled with concern, and she shook her head.

‘You need rest. Leon and I can manage from here.’ Of course, while he was on bedrest, his sister was acting-King, or in this case, Queen. And Leon, the head of his Knights, his closest advisor, was the best choice to stand by her at this point. Not that anyone would dare attack Morgana, not with the knowledge of her Magic.

‘I’ll just have a quick nap.’ Arthur remarked, voice already starting to slur. Her Magic, he figured, watching an amused smile spread across her lips, a quirk that he missed.

‘Of course, brother. Sleep.’ And with that, Arthur gave in to the command, let his head fall back to the pillow.

**

Aithusa had done exactly as Merlin wished. Not because he’d ordered it, but because the Dragon was beginning to understand what it meant to be kin. Unlike Kilgharrah, Merlin was patient, understood that Aithusa was still young and struggling to find a place in a world where not many people were fond of him.

What he hadn't expected, when trying to fly around and watch the Knight that was heading into the bordering territories, was to be shot down with an arrow. It dug into his flank, burned like the fire he had only just learnt to breathe, and he couldn’t help but fall down into the canopy.

The Knight did not come back for him, evidently more concerned with the direction he was travelling in. And it wasn’t towards King Lot’s Castle, but to the memories Aithusa had managed to see in Merlin’s mind. His sire, his family, was in trouble. Dangerously in trouble, if Aithusa couldn’t get a message back.

So, the Dragon focused. Kilgharrah often got bored of teaching him the tricks of their species, but Aithusa was glad he had pushed the topic. Now, bleeding from the arrow-wound in his leg, he focused on the connection he had with his kin, crying out for Merlin.

He could only hope that the Dragonlord reached him in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Aithusa, it hurt me to hurt him!


	15. A bad thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming to the end of this fic, although I can confirm it will be left open for a sequel

Merlin didn’t hesitate, dismounting the horse so quickly that he was surprised he managed to land upright. Behind him, he could hear Arthur pointing out the obvious, that they needed to continue on the Hunt for Alvar if they had any hope of returning before nightfall.

‘Go! I’ll catch you up, I just need…’ He didn’t say anymore, crouching down into the dirt beside Aithusa, the Dragon raising his head and flicking one eye open. The arrow-wound looked painful, the skin around it torn and angry.

‘I’m so sorry I let this happen to you.’ Merlin murmured, ran his fingers between Aithusa’s eyes in a comforting gesture. In response, the Dragon made a low, comforting sound, vibrating both of them as they sat on the woodland floor. The Knights were charging on, leaving him alone with his kin, the moment stretching onwards as Merlin considered what to do.

‘I have to pull it out.’ That conclusion wasn’t met with any resistance, if anything, Aithusa curled tighter around him. His tail tucked behind Merlin, holding the man steady, allowing him to place both hands either side of the wound.

‘I don’t know if I’m strong enough to heal you.’ The warlock didn’t want to hurt Aithusa, but the Dragon nudged his arm, the confidence needed to wrap his hand around the arrow, gripping tightly. He didn’t count down, it would have been more for his benefit than Aithusa’s anyway, just yanked back and dropped the arrow like fire when it was free.

The wound was deep, enough that blood oozed out, staining the beautiful white scales the colour of death. He placed a hand over the injury, tried to channel his Magic as far as he could, but when the cut did not patch itself together, he realised his first instinct had been right. He couldn’t heal it.

‘Let me.’ He would have jumped, had the voice not been one he recognised. He turned, looked right into the worried eyes that still haunted him at night, her voice calling out to him, for he could not save her.

‘Freya.’ Had Aithusa known? Was that why the Dragon had stopped, conveniently by the small stream that she could use to manifest? Either way, it did not matter, and Merlin reached for the Dragon, to lift Aithusa and drag him to the water’s edge, where Freya was waiting.

‘I cannot…’

‘Hush, Merlin. It’s alright.’ He watched, mostly in awe, as the Lady of the Lake bent down, letting her hand move along the Dragon’s spine, until she reached the broken scales where the arrow had pierced. The Warlock took a step back, watched as the once-druid frowned in concentration, the Dragon relaxing into the touch as the skin started to mesh back together.

‘You have to be strong now, Merlin.’ Strong? For who? Aithusa was healed, mostly, a faint line where signifying Merlin’s mistake. The Dragon moved away from Freya as soon as she had finished, practiced running around the clearing while his tail swung happily, not unlike the dogs that Arthur kept for hunting.

‘Aithusa is healed.’ Merlin remarked, slightly confused by the cryptic message that Freya gave, although not surprised. It stung, seeing her in front of him, just as beautiful as she had been when he had planned to run away with her. The curse, the one that ultimately led to her death, was a serving reminder of everything Merlin had failed to do.

‘It is not the Dragon I am concerned for.’ It took him too long to understand what she meant. And even when he pieced the information together, it didn’t really sink in.

Alvar wasn’t fleeing back to the safety of King Lot’s kingdom, he was heading for something that would hurt Merlin.

Ealdor.

And Merlin, who could not let another get hurt because of his mistakes, had chosen to save the Dragon, rather than ride on to try and catch Alvar. It was why the Knight had shot down the Dragon, but not killed him. Because he had to slow Merlin down, in order to reach Ealdor before the Warlock did.

‘Freya…’

‘I am with you, Merlin. Always. You need only call for me.’ With that statement in mind, he knew what was happening. He knew what Alvar was doing, from the sad look in Freya’s eye, to the way the Dragon had stopped bounding around, had lowered his head in a quiet look of sorrow. Merlin looked to the both of them, forced the panic down.

He would reach them in time, he had to.

**

She knew, when she heard the hoofbeats, that something was wrong. When she saw the cape, the embroided symbol of King Lot’s Knights, she knew that it was not a good day.

The others in the Village had come out of their huts, stopped their farming, or cooking, or cleaning. Had watched the Knight dismount, with growing trepidation as he strode across to her, not bothering to glance at the others.

Even as he drew his sword, pressed it to the base of her neck, she kept calm.

‘Come with me, or I will slay you down where you stand.’ A long time ago, when Merlin had been a babe, she had done everything to try and keep him safe. Had travelled, to other towns and cities looking for work, picking up extra jobs and selling what she could, to try and provide. It had meant leaving Merlin alone, which she should never have done, but she had to. Plus, deep down, every time she saw the golden mix in his eyes, she knew that he would live a very dangerous life.

Sir Alvar had been a chance for a better life. He had offered Merlin the chance to learn, to be taken under his wing, to be paid. She should have known better, no Knight wanted a six-year-old boy to look after, not unless he had other motives. By the time she learnt that he had Magic, that he had been able to tell that Merlin had, the damage was done. Her boy was bruised, beaten and bloody, and Alvar had promised revenge.

If she went with him, he would use her to hurt Merlin. And, as a Mother, that was one thing that she could never allow to happen. So, even when the sword was pressed to her neck, she shook her head. Stood up for herself, and for her son, like she should have done all those years ago. How many times had she looked the other way, knowing that Merlin was hurt? She did her best, tried to keep him safe, but Camelot had been the only way to do that.

Her boy, her Merlin, she was so proud of what he had become.

It didn’t shock her, the look of surprise on his face, or the malice that quickly replaced it. She just squeezed her eyes shut, prayed she could be brave for a little bit longer, that her boy would be fine. That was all she could hope for.

**

Arthur followed the screams. He followed the smoke, billowing up. And, when he found his horse skidding to a halt, he looked out across the devastation. People, running away from the burning huts, a man on horseback at the other end of the Village, as if tempting Arthur to give chase, rather than save the people.

But it wasn’t the smoke that caused his eyes to well up, no, it was the body that his eyes found, a sword straight through the centre, an action meant to catch Arthur’s eye.

No, not Arthur’s eye. Because, as Arthur heard the sound of a horse approaching from behind the group of Knights, he knew that everything was about to go very wrong.


	16. Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's in pain, Freya's helping Destiny, and Arthur's losing his friend

Freya stood, heard the scream that broke the sky, the sound of Emrys as his heart shattered. She could do nothing but watch as his knees hit the ground, felt the Magic around cry out in pain as his sorrow bled out. It would soon be time, for the King to finally understand what his protector could do, time for Camelot to have the sorcerer that no man would ever be able to defeat.

But it was hard, despite knowing this had to happen, to watch it. The Warlock, cradling the woman that had tried to keep him safe, while the Knights looked unsure. They wanted to attack, Sir Alvar was still within reach, but it was not their duty to do so. She used the water as her pathway, appeared beside the group, watched them startle and draw swords.

‘Arthur Pendragon, this is not your fight. Emrys must do this alone.’ Alone, well, she could bend that rule slightly. Still, the King did not seem inclined to leave his best friend, his eyes hurt and his body trembling with the need to go to the servant.

‘Who are you?’ Leon, always the lead, was dangerously close to pressing the sword against her. Freya offered a small smile, could understand what these men felt, the loyalty they had not only to Arthur, but to Merlin as well. A family, bound by trust and love, torn apart by Destiny. It would hurt, but only for a short while, she knew that.

‘He will be alright, Pendragon, with time.’ Freya wished she could do more for them, could stop the coming storm. But that was not her duty, her destiny as the Guardian. Aithusa arrived, went to one of the Knights and pressed against him, a sign that the Dragon trusted her.

‘I will keep him safe.’ Freya assured, slowly reached out. The King, still so young and unsure, did nothing to stop her as she closed her fingers around her sword, Excalibur. Did nothing as she pulled it from its sheath, stared at the blade that would become the focus of legends.

‘Thank you.’ She murmured, the only solace she could offer, and disappeared back into the water.

**

Merlin couldn’t think. He couldn’t even breath, his chest felt like it was closing in, that he was trapped under a weight that nothing could lift. His Magic offered little, it could not heal the wound, nor could it bring back the dead. Glassy eyes, staring up at the sky, not focusing on him like he expected. Dark red, spilled out onto the ground, the flames that Alvar had lit burning around them.

Alvar. Merlin rose his head, looked through the burning village and sought out the man that had taken what Merlin held dear.

Something nudged his shoulder, a reassuring touch that Merlin didn’t need to turn to identify, could feel Aithusa’s sorrow matching his own. Using the Dragon to assist, he stood slowly, reaching out to close his Mother’s eyes first. Despite the fire, Freya had managed to appear, a fallen barrel of water that was slowly dissipating as the temperature rose.

He didn’t question why she held Excalibur, or why she turned it so he could take the blade.

‘It’s alright to hurt, Merlin. It’s okay to feel.’ Freya stepped closer, to the edges of the water seeping into the ground, and reached out to touch him. Her hand cupped his cheek, and he tilted into the touch, felt her thumb brush away the tear that tracked down his face.

‘Together.’ A promise, and Merlin looked up to the sky, felt his voice break as he summoned forth the storm. Rain, to help Freya become solid, although she vanished from his side as she went after Alvar.

‘Go, find him.’ Merlin commanded, Aithusa taking to the sky as Merlin looked back to the burning village, to the rain putting out the devastation.

To Excalibur, held close as he started to walk, feet unsure as he moved towards Alvar.

**

Alvar was trying to flee. Whether it was the storm that had formed, the rain lashing down and soaking the ground, or the Warlock with golden eyes and a sword that was coming after him. He was scrambling away, paused to look back, to see the Knights of Camelot on the other side of the Village. They made no move to stop the Sorcerer, in fact they looked just as shocked by the power he held as Alvar was.

He turned, ready to run, and paused when he saw a woman. Dressed in white, feet bare as she stood on the grass, a steady smile on her face. It wasn’t reassuring, it was cold, eyes lifeless as she stared him down. Alvar wasn’t a fool, turned to run the opposite way when he heard it, the rumbling sound that was accompanied with sky-blue eyes, white scales deflecting water.

The Dragon snarled, and even in the rain, Alvar could feel the fire that the Dragon might breath. They were blocking his path, he realised, before the ground under him shuddered. The rocking, the turmoil, seemed not to affect the two creatures that stood between him and escape, which meant he knew what was behind him before he turned.

When he met the burning golden eyes, Alvar remembered the first time he met the boy. Merlin had been but a child, not even registering on Alvar’s radar. The Mother had been beautiful, had caught his attention enough that he returned. That he saw the boy’s golden eyes for the first time. That had been the moment his interest shifted, and now, he saw the fault.

The sword was the King’s, risen above the Warlock’s head as he moved forwards, Alvar doing the only thing he thought might save him. Dropped to his knees, did not call for his Magic, not when the trio of Magic were around him. Excalibur caught the rain, sliding down to the tip of the blade and dripping down.

‘I… I’m sorry.’ His voice trembled, barely heard over the rain that soaked him through, ran down his face and blurred his view of the heartbroken man in front.

‘You tried to kill Arthur. You hurt my friends. You…’ Choked, cut off, and Merlin looked past him to the woman dressed in white, the stony-cold expression returning.

‘I would have you suffer. To tear everything you love apart, to make you feel what I feel.’ The sword lit up, flames of orange and red that danced down it as the man rose it up, and Alvar screwed his eyes shut.

**

Freya watched the body hit the floor, the thump as it met the ground ringing out. Excalibur burnt brightly, the fire racing around the blade and the hand that held it, yet did not burn the skin. And when she met the gaze of the Warlock, the boy destined to live a life of pain, his eyes were still golden. Fire, deep ambers and starlight that swirled, hurt and despair that she couldn’t change.

‘Do what you must.’ She knew, before he even tipped his head back to the rain, called for his kin, what he was going to do. Aithusa trembled, whether from the power of the last Dragonlord, or from the agony that stained the ground, the way his Magic cried out.

‘Look after him.’ Merlin crouched, took Aithusa’s head in his hands, a plea that the Dragon did not ignore. Excalibur, driven into the ground by the Dragon’s side, as the sound of wings broke through the storm.

Freya heard Arthur’s shout, the King that needed his best friend, but the Warlock didn’t break. He climbed up onto the back of the Dragon, Kilgharrah not sparing a glance as he took to the skies, leaving the Pendragon to shout after him.

Alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the end. Merlin is gone, Arthur's alone, and Aithusa is Camelot's protector. 
> 
> Sequel? ;)

**Author's Note:**

> New Story, hope you guys enjoy! Comments and Kudos are always appreciated :)


End file.
